A Darkly Slanted Mirror
by EAnnajeRETURNS
Summary: She wondered how she knew in her heart of hearts that this was wrong, that somehow this wasn't the way things were supposed to be. That something had changed, and that somehow, it all had to do with her…
1. PRELUDE: the second war

**A/N: **_Welcome reader to my first attempt at a HP fanfiction :) Some of you may have read my Twilight fic, Frozen Dawn and are wondering why the bloody hell they disappeared from FF for the last couple of months. I apologize once again for deleting them, and urge you to glance at my profile for more info. _

_For new readers, this story isn't even based on my favorite HP pairing, but just sort of popped out of nowhere one night. And once I started writing it it flowed._

_A word of caution: though I've written quite a few chapters already, I can't promise how often I'll be able to update this story. But thought I would go ahead and put it out there instead of let it collect dust in my desktop._

_So hope you enjoy and we'll see where the road takes us :)_

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**Disclaimer: **_Because these tend to be annoying though at times amusing to read, I'm starting off and will ONLY say it once: JK ROWLING owns Harry Potter. You know that, she knows that, I know that. Sound good? Alright! Now we can finally begin! lol_

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_**PRELUDE:**_

**Chapter 1**

**the second war**

* * *

All was silent save the pounding thud of her heartbeat rushing blood to her head, now straining to pull the two Wizards to safety with each crackling _**'POP'**_.

No matter how quickly they apparated, the Death Eater followed.

The strain was pulling at her chest, and she was grasping to hold on to the magic that seemed to drain from her like a bad leak.

They had the locket. They had the Horocrux and the Death Eater knew it.

To give up now would be to give up the months they had already sacrificed to find it.

To give up would mean to give up their lives.

Hermione Granger was not the most powerful witch of her time. She had no innate natural talent like the infamous Harry Potter clinging to her hand now. His magical store was largely untapped, something she had always secretly envied of her best friend. She would give anything to grasp even an iota of Harry's potential.

Because no amount of knowledge and brains could pull them from the fix they found themselves in now.

She was fading, fast…

She screamed when she lost control, unaware of the struggle her friends had keeping up.

They fell to the soft grassy earth so the breath was stolen from her lungs. She struggled to breath, lifted her head against the pain clenching at her brain.

As the hollow shell shock still ringing in her ears began to fade Hermione realized someone was screaming in agony.

Pushing her dark curls from her face she saw Harry's green eyes meet hers…and then saw the crumpled form he was holding down to the earth.

**Ron**

Her limbs loosened, would not be able to hold out much longer. But the sight of Ron bleeding beneath Harry's hands tore something inside of her so violently she found she was screaming too.

Flinging herself to his side she pointed her want to him.

_Splinched_….

Tears blurred her vision, still she concentrated on the non-verbal spell she had rehearsed so many times before their quest began. She had memorized so many spells, so many words, so many books to make certain they were prepared. She had thought of everything, every logical turn of events, every scenario.

_Your fault…_

Her own voice taunted her in her head.

Distantly she registered Harry's voice, his shouts. She couldn't focus on his words. It was too much. Too fast! Her other hand was grasping for the metal inside her shirt, unable to wrench it free with her weak hand.

_No time…_

The eerily calm voice that sounded so much like her own reminded her. "Shut up!" She screamed.

'_**POP**_'

Harry had left them and was now attempting to save their lives against the influx of hexes being sent their way.

Hermione struggled to maintain the spell. Why didn't Ron's wounds heal? Why was he still screaming?

Flashes of light, crackle of magical energy cued the eerily calm Hermione still watching on past the emotional, exhausted wreck screamed on the outside.

The Death Eater had caught up with them was wounded, but much older than any of them and in the moment, stronger than any of them except for Harry.

"Hermione! Run!" She ignored Harry's plea as he lashed spell after spell.

'_**POP'**_

'_**POP'**_

Two more black robed figures had followed.

She was screaming while blood began to gush from Ron's lips…lips she had never caressed with her own. She had never known how desperately she longed to do just that until now.

One Death Eater was down, but the others were following.

Ron's periwinkle blue eyes locked with hers for a moment, burning, suddenly coherent yet the message in them was unmistakable.

Hermione choked, "NO!"

Harry's body collided with hers, his hand wrapped round her wrist, he only turned to cast a spell that caused the world to explode in a silvery blue light.

_A Patronus charm_...

'_**POP**_'

Faster than Hermione had managed, Harry took them through a series of locations once again, a magical trail that only someone as powerful as he was could manage. She was still screaming as the pull of Apparating tore her already numb body.

* * *

She was unsure how exactly Harry managed to lose the Death Eaters.

Harry had pulled them deep into the forest, in the wilds Hermione pointed out to him on her map only the night before. It would be a good place to lie low after they found and took the locket…

It was a good hiding place.

The trees shadowed the earth. The forest was peaceful.

They had both sank to their knees in the muddy earth, as rain fell in frigid drifts overhead. Harry had muffled her screams in his chest. His hands, covered in Ron's blood caressed her back and he whispered nonsensical things to her ear.

_Words…_

"He's dead, Hermione…there wasn't anything we could have done." He stumbled over his words, voice hitching with unshed tears. His voice was calm as the now despised logical voice in her brain.

How could he be calm? How could he say these things! Her screams may have died but she couldn't listen to any more. She pushed away from his warm chest.

Rain streaked their faces, matted Harry's unruly black hair over his head. She stood, stumbled over the mud yet somehow managed to stand on unsteady legs. "NO!" She shouted as thunder cracked the sky. Her wand was shaking in her hand, pointed at Harry. Her hair was plastered to her face, distorting along with the rage in her wide amber eyes. "NO! How could you leave him! Why didn't you take him with us! Ron was splinched! He's not…" Choking on her words, Hermione took another distancing step, betrayal lacing her words.

Hard mask gone, the pain was so clear in Harry's emerald eyes, blurred by the rain on his spectacles. Hermione knew very well Harry had, if anything just saved their lives and the entire Wizarding world as a result. But she couldn't acknowledge that. Because in that same instant Hermione knew what had happened to Ron was _**her **_fault.

"Hermione, what are you doing?" Harry asked. He was taking slow cautious steps to her side, eyeing the unsteady shake of her wand and the tremble of her full lip. His green eyes pleaded all the while with her, the same way Ron's had pleaded just before the curse hit him…

Voice breaking when she tried to speak, thunder crackled overhead again, she dug her nails into her palm till she drew blood. "I'm not leaving him!" Fainter, she saw the world begin to shift in and out of focus and blinked past the haze. The rain beating roughly now against her skin kept her awake. "I can't leave him…my fault…" Her eyes rolled even as she tried to Apparate.

She heard the unmistakable, "_Stupefy_!" from Harry's lips before his arms caught her centimeters from the ground.

* * *

_Ron's eyes pleaded with her in a sudden moment of lucidity past the loss of blood and his pain. There was forgiveness in his eyes, a need and sorrow, as though he knew what was inevitable. Though not knowing how they could go on, that Hermione was the one who had to do it. She had to be the one to pull Harry through…_

Her limbs felt like lead when she woke to the crackling sound of the radio. Blinking past what felt like the worst mental hang over she had ever experienced, her eyes focused on the familiar peak of the tent she had created before they began their journey three months ago.

Three months! They had all been so confident then, desperate and uncertain of what awaited them. Yet certain no matter what happened they could conquer anything because they were together.

Tears filled her eyes the moment the images from her dream came crashing down.

_Ron..._

Something was dropped on the floor nearby her cot. The radio, she recognized, now zipping in and out of frequency before settling on soft white noise.

"Hermione?" Harry was at her side with a rush of wind, his lanky frame and bespectacled eyes crashing on the edge of the cot while her hand was wrapped tightly in his own. She saw his emerald eyes, the red that surrounded them and knew he was thinking about Ron.

"Harry…" Her voice cracked, tears spilled down her cheeks. She couldn't erase the image of blood gushing from her the lips of her first love. She couldn't… "Harry? Is he…is Ron dead?"

Jaw clenching tightly his brow furrowed, his fingers tightened as he nodded. "There wasn't enough time. We couldn't have done anything."

Her eyes widened.

_If I hadn't lost control…_

"Hermione?" Harry asked, closer now, his eyes hardening. "Hermione, listen to me. I can't loose you too, okay? I—I know how you feel right now…he—Ron was my brother. But we have to keep going. Ron would have wanted us to keep going. There are too many people out there who will suffer if we don't get through this Hermione."

_Too many people…_

How many lives had been lost to the war? How many others would die before the end? The list of those she knew alone was maddening enough. But there were so many others. So many people who had lost their lives and still affected the people she loved.

_Like Harry's mum and dad_…

Like being doused with a bucket of cold water Hermione's mind cleared past her shock. Logical, inhumanly calm Hermione was taking control once again. Harry was right. They couldn't lie in their grief or they would fall right into the trap Voldomort had waiting for them.

Without Hermione, Harry would be alone, just like he had intended before she and Ron forced themselves into his plans. The Golden Trio had faced Death each time together. That was how they survived.

And now they were just Harry and Hermione. Without Ron they had lost the strength they needed.

Blinking past fresh tears Hermione gripped Harry's hand just as tightly back, the light igniting in her amber eyes and causing Harry's own to soften with relief.

She understood the pleading in Ron's eyes now. He was asking her to fill in the gaps. She had to be strong. "We're going to make it Harry," she said with determination. "We're going to take from _him_ everything he took from us. We won't let them all die in vain. And we'll mourn Ron later…" Her voice softened towards the end, yet Harry seemed to hang onto her words.

_He needed this…_

The tent was the same as they had left it. Her eyes focused on the locket sitting on the table nearby.

Harry's eyes were far away when she looked back at her best friend. It was a look Hermione was very familiar with because she had seen it reflected in his face often through their years together. She hadn't understood that look before, when Harry began to think about the people that had been taken from him, his parents…_Sirius_. Now she truly understood that look for the first time. And her heart cracked to pieces knowing it was a part of Harry he would never be able to escape. His life was filled with more misery than any other person she knew.

The Savior of the Wizarding World hardly looked like a hero right now.

Yet Hermione believed in him.

Especially now she secretly was feeling all the knowledge and wisdom and logic she had hoarded were pointless in a war like this. She didn't have the power to fight, had never been much of a dueler, hated D.A.D.A because she couldn't seem to master the focus and power its efficiency required.

She was seventeen years old, eighteen counting the added hours the time turner from third year had given, Hermione Jean Granger. And she would be strong for Harry even if she had to pretend.

"Harry?"

A slow smile ghosted his features. "I was thinking about that Christmas we spent at Grimmauld… Sirius and me were pulling prank wars with the twins. I've never laughed more than I did that Christmas. I've never felt more at home than I did there. Sirius was like a different person." His eyes met hers, grin fading. "It's not fair, Hermione, how many have been taken. Not just from me, but everyone. It's not going to stop until he's dead, is it?"

She was silent. White noise still crackled with thunder in the background. The tent felt empty. Biting her lip she watched as he bowed his head and adjusted his glasses. After a long minute of nothing to say, "Do you ever still wonder what things would have been like?"

His head perked up immediately as he offered, "You mean if he'd never…"

"Murdered your parents," Hermione finished.

A transformation took over Harry's face, premature lines faded and his eyes began to shine brighter the more he thought. "I've thought about that every day since I learned the truth. I thought about them while at the Dursley's, even before I knew they had died sacrificing their lives for mine. I've had to rely all my life on what other people told me about them because the memories I have are so few…"

"You could have grown up with Ron and the Weasley's long before Hogwarts," She said with a forced grin.

"Yeah…could have shown Malfoy a thing or two on the broom our first year."

"We'd spend holidays at your parents' home, take turns whenever we didn't want to deal with the noise at the Weasley's."

Harry's smile was genuine. "Sirius would have tried teaching me all his tricks on _baiting birds_." He imitated the lighthearted suave tone Sirius had used on the occasions he had tried to corrupt Harry's humility.

Hermione shook her head at the thought of Harry's godfather. The man had been infuriating and endearing. They had butted heads more than not. She did not approve of grown men who acted like children, but looking back regretted every harsh word she'd ever said to him.

"Maybe you'd have a brother or sister?" she mused.

Harry's face drew pensive, thoughtful, wistful. "They would have never let me face Voldomort like this. Dad was an Auror. He would have hunted me down with mum at his heels the moment he found out what we were trying to do… Then they would have gone after Voldomort's head."

Hermione hesitated. "I don't think they would have let Voldomort live long enough to challenge you."

Harry nodded and suddenly smiled, their gazes locking and her heart warmed. "They would have loved you."

Hermione smiled softly, while she was aching on the inside.

Harry glanced back at the radio he had dropped, and giving her a squeeze removed his hand to go turn the device off. Setting it down on the table beside the locket, his eyes paused on the horocrux only a second before meeting Hermione's watch. Offering a look he had only every given her, his best friend, "I'd better get back out there. I've been too worried about you to watch for Death Eaters. And I know my protection charms are a patched up mess compared to yours Hermione."

She smiled. "Undoubtedly."

He walked to the tent opening and undid the flap.

"Harry?"

He had already turned back expectantly, eyebrows raised and hidden by his messy black hair.

"Constant vigilance."

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**Review: If ye like, or even if ye don't...lol**


	2. PRELUDE: time

**Disclaimer:** To all Brits out there, forgive my un-brittishness!

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_**PRELUDE:**_

**Chapter 2**

**time**

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With Harry gone Hermione was able to drop the façade and allow her mind to stew over her preposterous thoughts.

The idea had come long before this of course, only triggered now because of her own inner dialogue.

**Time**…

Glancing to be certain Harry remained outside their tent, she pulled the cool object that rested hidden beneath her shirt.

Holding it to the lantern light her eyes reflected the gold of the time turner in her palm. With a light tug the clasp round her neck came undone and she held the hourglass to better see. This was one of the few secrets she had kept from Harry, from everyone. Sixth year at Hogwarts had been painful enough and not without its troubles, yet Hermione had had much time to prepare.

And after Sirius' death she had watched her best friend go through a depression she did not think he could come out of whole. Harry had recovered, but Hermione had been purged into action.

She had thought at first to try and change the timeline so Sirius would still be with Harry…and them all.

After selling her grandmother's antique jewelry her mother passed to her on her fifteenth birthday and depleting her allowance in Gringotts; it was only after buying the ingredients necessary Hermione remembered Dumbledore's warnings from her third year.

_There were consequences for changing time_.

Men went mad when faced with themselves. Paradoxes were tirelessly sorted out by fate and most who meddled with time that Hermione had read of died mysterious deaths.

Done correctly and under Ministry scrutiny it could be used for useful things like allowing Hermione to take the extra classes she wanted.

After Sirius Black fell through the Veil, Hermione had met Death for the first time and her mission in creating her own time turner changed.

She couldn't save Sirius, but what if Harry didn't make through the end?

If he fell to Voldomort, Hermione was willing to risk all the warnings Dumbledore had given her and unravel time to bring him back.

_They couldn't do this without Harry._

She hadn't been able to save Ron, but what if she was able to save others? What if she were able to give them all the lives they had been meant to lead in the first place? Before evil perverted fate's purest plan?

What if Dumbledore's warnings were only to protect her, to scare her into submission? Their beloved Headmaster had cared deeply for all of them but Hermione had also watched him try to manipulate events in the war, sometimes using people he cared for like Harry.

Had his caution been for other reasons? Had they been from personal experience?

And the slower the rains beating the roof of their tent fell, the faster her thoughts came.

What if she could undo her mistakes and Dumbledore's? What if she could give Harry the people he so desperately needed right now? Was it even possible?

Thunder rumbled distantly. The sound echoed in Hermione's ears and she realized instantly how foolish her own thoughts were. How could she even consider, to dare such a giant leap through time?

It was proven no one could go farther back in time than several hours of their past without causing irrevocable damage. Although, there was no way to tell if anyone had been able to change the time line before… And Hermione had been unable to test her time turner while keeping up with the other chaos that was her life. At the time she was secretly afraid of what could happen if she did try it. Later she excused her lack of professionalism on the certainty it had only been an experiment they wouldn't need. It was her invention after all…and she wasn't completely certain what the object in her hands was capable of.

Harry had not come back inside the tent and Hermione could hear nothing beyond the light mist of Rain tapping the tent canvas.

Frowning to herself she sat up in her cot and groaned at the clench of her stiff muscles. How long had she been out before the nightmare woke her?

Harry had been too tired to change her clothes apparently. Though he had taken the coat from her shoulders, the tailored silky garment beneath was too cool for the wild and the skirt impractical.

She changed into a pair of jeans, jumper and trainers before wrapping her cloak round her head. She had set the time turner onto her cot to change, grabbed it after nearly forgetting the too powerful object lay unprotected, and walked outside.

It was far past midnight, yet the sky was clouded over till no stars or moonlight could penetrate the forest.

Hermione's fist tightened against the tiny hourglass in her hand. Tentatively, she called out to him, "Harry?"

He didn't answer.

The forest was too quiet. Not even insects or animals disturbed the eerie peace. Swallowing thickly she lifted her wand to check the wards Harry had set round their camp. It was a small comfort his charms were nowhere near as potent as Hermione's, not as precise anyhow. Yet they were powerfully intact. And that meant her best friend must not have left.

"Harry?" She called as she walked around the tent, straining her eyes to see in the night, yet too wary to light her own way.

A limb cracked in the forest ahead and her head snapped to follow the sound. She froze and waited.

Harry must have moved the wards farther to give him space to pace and to think, she rationed… Or he needed the loo. She continued a list of possible scenarios, each less likely than the last. And she could not shake the chill that overtook her as she stared into a forest that was filled with shadows too thick and revealed nothing.

That was when she turned and saw it.

A silent war was ensuing in the near distance of the forest, flashes of light.

Hermione cursed.

_How had she not felt it?_

Over the storm the shouts of the Death Eater's and Harry Potter fell deaf. And she did not pause to think before rushing past their tent and the trees, allowing the gusts of light to guide her way. Her heart beat loudly in her chest, her breath sounded thick and ragged already. She couldn't think about anything except for Harry.

The Chosen One was holding his own against three Death Eaters, all swathed in their black cloaks, they rushed him. Others watched on from the forest. It was obvious they were trying to subdue Harry rather than kill him. That was a job only their Master would allow himself.

Her hands clenched over wand and time turner and she cast the spell toward Harry silently,

'_**Protego!'**_

The shield effectively stopped a scarlet red curse from hitting his back.

Harry turned, saw Hermione and shouted. "**GO**!" His features clenched the moment he realized by warning her he had given her away.

Hermione cast several more spells, one catching a tall Death Eater by surprise. He hit the ground instantly and several heads turned at once her direction.

"Kill the Mudblood!" The screeching voice was unmistakable. What was Bellatrix Lestrange doing here?

Hermione resisted the urge to go after the Witch.

"No Bellatrix! The Dark Lord has plans for her!" A very haggard looking Lucius Malfoy shouted over his sister in-law's mad ravings.

"**RUN HERMIONE**! **GO**!" Harry screamed.

She knew he was right, knew that she was distracting Harry now rather than helping him. Still she stood her ground and dodged streams of hexes missing her by a hair and a hands breath.

'**Stupefy**!'

Hermione thought the jinxes as quickly as she could. She kept Ron's face burned into her mind, his pleading eyes, and was able to move faster and surer than she had ever been able to hold her ground before. She thought of Harry, saw his emerald eyes, knew she had to be strong!

Yet dark cloaks were rushing toward her. The spells were coming too quickly. The familiar strain was beginning to pull at her senses, seep from her pores. She gasped as the first jinx hit her knees, knocking them out of place. She screamed, cast a protective shield as she healed them, and screamed when two thick arms lifted her off the ground from behind.

'_**POP**'_

'_**POP'**_

'_**POP'**_

The golden signatures of Aurors were rushing into the fray. How they had found them, Hermione did not know. She had forgotten Harry's Patronus. Yet she watched the scene from the awkward angle she was being carried farther away.

It was obvious there were more Aurors than she had thought. Some took off dark cloaks to reveal familiar faces. Others were disarming the Death Eaters who had attacked Harry.

Their game was over.

She watched Remus Lupin grab a hysterical Harry from behind, restraining him. He was screaming her name. "Hermione! Hermione no! Let go of me damn it! Let go of me! Hermione! Hermione!"

She felt sickeningly hot breath against her neck and a growl at her ear. "You're sweet enough to eat love…shame the Dark Lord needs you unspoiled…for now."

Her blood ran cold. His sharp teeth, accompanied by breath that smelled of rotting meat, grazed the skin of her shoulder but did not pierce the skin.

_Fenrir Greyback_…

Reality came rushing at her then. She was being carried away by the other Death Eaters, by _a werewolf_.

She reared her head back hard into his, kicked him violently in his groin and ran. He howled with rage even as he stumbled.

Hermione slid against mud. Still she ran, casting stray curses she prayed hit their mark. And then she heard a familiar vicious cackle and saw a red stream before her. She fell immobile literally on top of Bellatrix Lestrange and snapped her wand in the process.

"Hurry Bella!" Lucius Malfoy urged. The shouts of Aurors were not far behind them.

"What about the locket?" Bellatrix giggled as Lucius pulled Hermione's limp body into his arms.

Fenrir had not come yet. Hermione hoped the Aurors had already hexed the bastard to oblivion. Tears were leaking from Hermione's eyes. Her fists were still clenched over her broken wand and the time turner and she realized what she had to do. If Voldemort got his hands on a time turner like hers, Hermione was certain she would wake to a world with no Muggles left.

She thought of the spell just as Lucius apparated.

_No!_

The sky was lighter here, but only able to glare at the sky Hermione had no clue where they had taken her.

Bellatrix was cackling. "Filthy Mudblood hoar! The Dark Lord will show you how your precious wittle family will be treated! He'll kill them! And he'll make you watch! He'll make you scream and cry until wittle Blood Traitor Potter comes rushing after you!"

"Bella…" Lucius' flat tone implied that he had clearly had enough.

Hermione had done very little wandless magic. It was dangerous if done incorrectly and Hermione did not trust her own inner power enough to try it. Now she had no choice. She screamed the spell silently through her mind, with greater intent and purpose than she had done anything before.

Lucius never saw it coming. Her wand was jammed into his windpipe and she rolled when he dropped her, grasped his wand and began to run while casting curses at the mad Witch trailing her.

She screeched, "You filthy Mudblood! How dare you defy us!"

Hermione was too weak.

Bellatrix was too mad and too fast. The older Pureblood lunged at Hermione and the younger Witch backed both of them against a thick tree. A tangle of limbs, nails and screams later, the Witches fought with their bare hands now. Hermione could not let her win, she couldn't fail Harry, and couldn't betray Ron's promise!

A second wind gave her the energy she had lost and with more force than she had intended she kneed the Witch, straddled and pointed Malfoy's wand to her throat.

"**CRUICIO**!" The Unforgivable fell from her lips with all the wrath Hermione had pent up since watching Ron fall because of _her _weakness. A cold sick feeling welled up in her, sank beneath her skin and dug its claws deep and Hermione knew she would never be the same after.

Bellatrix laughed at first, then screamed, eyes widening with surprise and finally fear when Hermione did not stop. She could barely find the will to stop when all she could see was Ron's bloody broken body behind her closed eyes. And then the thought of all who had fallen because of the ones who chose Voldemort's cause, thought of Frank and Alice Longbottom, _Sirius Black, Lily and James Potter…_

"**Petrificus Totallis**!" Hermione finished and scrambled to her feet, running nowhere. She didn't know exactly where Harry had brought them, yet knew that he wouldn't be there when she returned. The Aurors would have gotten him out of there as quickly as possible.

Flashes of locations ran through her mind. Hermione realized with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach none of these places were safe any longer. Not even Hogwarts…

Her vision blurred with tears and she lifted the hand that held her time turner to wipe them away. In that instant she saw too late the rippling edge of a dark cloak, felt the force of a sledge hammer bash against the back of her head.

She crashed to the ground and the time turner smashed in between her palm and her chest.

**A blinding light consumed her, colors she had never seen before dancing along the fringe of her vision.**

**A loud sickening roar began, unnatural and increasing in speed and volume until her screams were lost in it.**

**Until she felt the gush of blood matte her hair and chest and the light closed in…**

**Until all she could see or feel was a heavy, oppressive darkness…**


	3. I: darkness shades light

**A/N: Hope you all are enjoying the story so far! On another note, ****why couldn't JK Rowling have written a side series on Hermione. Seriously if you read as much fanfiction as I have that witch has as much if not more fics than Harry lol The ones where she is a super kick ass heroine crack me up. You won't quite see her becoming Wonder Woman here, but she'll definitely grow into what she could have been I like to think ;)**

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_**PART 1: PRE-HOGWARTS**_

**Chapter 3**

**darkness shades light**

* * *

The blackest of pitch gave way to pain…pain so intense yet numbing she wondered whether she were dead or not. She couldn't be dead if she could feel. So why did she feel this constant ache all over her body as though she had been caught up in a bar brawl? Why did she struggle to open her eyes so much if she weren't dead?

Clenching her fist only made a voice cry out she instinctively knew was her own. Shards of tiny glass were lodged into her fist.

Blinking rapidly against the coming dawn she felt tears stream down her face. Her eyes felt as though they hadn't been used in ages.

Voices carried with the wind, a barking dog in the distant, grind of engines on a small country road? Birds sang a morning song, and the sun was warm, would have been pleasant if she could think past her pain.

The sounds and feelings around her were too calm and pleasant. The sky was clear but her clothes were wet, soaked through.

Something wasn't right.

Something was _very_ wrong.

And the place she was laying now was soft. Slowly she sat up and turned. Blood matted the thick emerald green grass. She stared at it and lifted her glass puckered hand to the back of her head, hissed and pulled it back to find blood on her fingertips. Blood ran down her hand. She glanced down at her jumper. Glass shards were stuck just over her heart. This was why it ached to breathe.

Groaning at the rush of blood or rather lack of blood to her head, she found the strength to stand.

She was stronger than she'd first thought.

She was stumbling through a light jog, trying to escape that wrong place covered in her blood. Even now the taint evil clung to the grassy hill.

She ran away from the sounds of children, dogs and cars, of people.

A distant voice seemed to tell her she should be running towards them.

She needed help.

Her vision kept blurring and she felt as though she were about to upturn her stomach with each step.

_Constant vigilance…_

The words came unbidden though she couldn't remember where she'd heard them.

Yet she had woken up bleeding and obviously from a rough night. It made logical sense she should be wary. Perhaps she should get away from any possible towns or cities for the moment? The Muggles couldn't see… She needed to find…to find…

She frowned, unable to reach past a very solid and firm barrier that encased her mind.

The hill she had just crested was not very high, yet allowed a slightly taller view of a quaint, small village of cottages and few streets increasingly busy with the rise of the sun. She swayed, blinked against the light.

A cold sickly feeling swept over her. She had never seen this place before. Something about it was off… the few cars that drove past were all vintage. And then she realized she felt lost in more ways than one.

* * *

With the wind at his back, slipping through his robes and sliding through his hair, he climbed higher and higher. Quidditch toned muscles taut all over his body gripped the Nimbus with the ease of someone who lived part of his life in the skies.

The new broom was even faster than the last, fond as he had been of "Old Bess".

With a sky this clear and perfect, wind heavy enough to give him extra punch, he was certain life didn't get any better than this!

Of course Mum didn't know he had snuck out of his room just before dawn that morning, to test out his reward for making near perfect marks last term at Hogwarts.

She had insisted he save its use for the surely hardy season of Quidditch ahead of them.

He grinned as he met with the clouds in far colder air though he wasn't wearing the proper robes for such a climb.

_Yep, Mum would have a fit_,_which is why it's best to do this before breakfast._

Clenching his thighs against the wood, steeling his shoes he let his arms flail free on either side of his torso.

And he was falling.

"WOOOOHOOOO!" He shouted and laughed as he tumbled against gusts of wind, plummeted faster the closer he returned to solid ground. The world was spinning, and the rush had his adrenaline pumping so loud it was a roar with the wind in his ears!

Narrowing his eyes at the fast approaching green hills and trees that made up his very spacey back yard, he forced his arms together.

His muscles strained as he fought for control, felt the rushing danger of possible death just before grasping the handle with both hands and feeling the grass against his knuckles.

He laughed again, at the fact his spectacles were now fogged over from the sudden heat down below. Not being able to see could definitely be a foreseeable problem.

_No good Prongs! Use your head mate!_

A roguish grin tilted his mouth. How much fun would it be to learn to fly blind? What would everyone say first game against Hufflepuff this term if Gryffindor's team captain turned out to be suddenly blind due to a faulty potions experiment?

He and Sirius were always dabbling around for new methods for their prank wars against the student body.

Lily Evans had openly remarked they were wasting theirs and everyone else's time in Potions. And they ruined more cauldrons in Slughorn's than any other student except Peter. He welcomed the familiar tightening in his chest at the thought of Lily's face at his new handicap. Would she buy it?

Of course she would if he played his cards right! And maybe she would feel sorry enough for him that she'd escort him during their Head Boy and Girl rounds? Couldn't hex him to oblivion and call him _Potter_ when he was a victim could she?

He was certain she would not be able to resist him this year now that he had refined himself. After Sirius' stunt last term he had wised up a bit. But the thought of last term brought a bitter taste to his mouth and he pushed it quickly aside. Sirius would never betray him! The thought was ridiculous! Preposterous!

They were _Marauders_.

His mind was reeling with his latest plot.

_Can't wait to tell Pads about this one! It's bloody brilliant!_

_Ingenious_, was what Sirius would say.

Several more skydives and interweaving loops in the air later he was literally sitting on top of the world, high above the hidden family manor and Godric's Hollow below. He laughed at the wind currently making his black hair more unruly than usual. He'd given up on trying for the perfectly groomed look Sirius claimed to have patented after first year.

His grin deepened at the thought of his best mate. Sirius had promised to cover for him this morning in case he felt like staying up a bit longer. Mummy Potter adored Sirius Black in a way that sickened James. Not even his own mother had ever kissed _his_ forehead adoringly when he was being cheeky. The Marauder was practically one of the family now, had been since his wicked family disowned him.

He scowled. The only being on this planet James Potter hated more than Lord Voldemort was Wallburga Black.

Godric's Hollow was finally waking up, he noticed, stretching his arms on either side to pop his back. The Wizarding village was small as it had been when his father was his age. It never changed in a way James envied.

Though there were parts of his life he would do anything to change, such as having Lily Evans speak three civil words to him, in truth James loved consistency. There was even a comfort in Lily's continual rejection and denial of his attentions just as much in the three mates that would be part of his life until death did part them.

He didn't like things to disturb the few things in life he called sacred. Which had been the main reason he began to hate Voldomort. The Dark Wizard wanted to change their entire world first, then the Muggles' after, no doubt. He wanted a world of Pureblood supremacy and James had had enough of that rubbish. Though his parents never imposed such blind idiocy on him, he had been raised among Purebloods and barely fancied two of the whole lot.

A frown marred the simple joy he'd felt moments before.

Voldemort's power was growing. The Daily Prophet wasn't entirely trustworthy, but not a day went by without some report of his activities. Or of the lives destroyed that stood in his path.

James hated the man with a passion and tried not to think about how soon he and the other Marauders would have to do their part.

Dad had already hinted to him Dumbledore might induct him into the Order after graduation.

_The sooner the better_, in his opinion.

He'd already made up his mind about the future. And he would do whatever it took to protect it. Nothing in all seven hells was going to keep him from what he wanted…

His eyes narrowed in confusion, hands guiding his broom closer.

Someone was running from Godric's Hollow and across his back yard.

He frowned, not fully realizing how close he was without a wand on hand. These weren't exactly innocent times.

Yet though he could feel the taint of dark magic on the air, somehow he knew it wasn't coming from them.

Whoever this was they weren't running very fast and they were wearing something bright red…

His eyes widened, mouth gaped when he recognized it was _blood_. Glancing round, scanning the fields immediately for Voldomort's little pet bitches and finding none in sight, he focused once more on the girl.

It _was _a girl, though her hair was matted with blood and her body was wrapped in a cloak too heavy for this time of year. What was even more disturbing was that she looked soaked through.

He hadn't heard the unmistakable pop of apparition anywhere nearby and he always sensed wherever strong magic was conjured. For all intents and purposed, James was beginning to believe this girl had appeared literally out of _nothing_. Like she were made of nothing she began to waver, to rock on her unsteady feet.

He shouted when her legs buckled and she fell an undignified heap just outside the wards of his house.

Tilting his Nimbus, James dove from his perch, faster than before, slowing just in time to make a slight arc above the grass. Leaping from his broom with ease he fell to his knees beside the heap a blood drenched girl.

Something in his chest clenched painfully at the sight of her crumpled form.

There was no doubt who had been the cause of this.

He reached out, intending to scoop her up in his arms without delay. She looked such a slight thing as it was. He didn't think she would wake again. She had lost so much blood…

Grounding out the harshest of curses under his breath he turned the girl onto her back, seeing the clotting wound at the back of her head. He gaped at the glass shards sticking from her chest and hand. Were those pieces of gold?

Her chest rose and fell shallowly, faintly.

Fear clutched him, powerfully and surprisingly. Not for what that bastard had done to her, but because she might not make it through the next hour.

Gritting his teeth he wrapped her up in the folds of her robe before bending his knees and standing.

She was even lighter than he'd expected, and she fit against his broad chest easily enough. His eyes watched her as he murmured the words that let him through his father's wards without harm and practically ran the rest of the way to the front door.

Her features were masked by blood and carpet thick hair, but he couldn't help but try to see past the grime. She was young, his age at the most, though there were a few worry lines about her eyes that made her seem older.

Whoever she was he intended to find out as soon as she could tell him.

Whoever she was, he was going to make certain Voldemort and his little _fucks_ never touched her again.

* * *

**Review: If you like :)**


	4. I: of hostesses and houseguests

**A/N: ****The plot thickens...**

* * *

**Part 1: PRE-HOGWARTS**

**Chapter 4**

**of hostesses and houseguests**

* * *

Warmth was returning to her limbs, a slow burn that spread from her toes to her fingertips. Sounds and scents she had been unaware of for days came flushing back with the memory of blood and pain and a boy on a broom. The last made her frown. She had seen the boy watching her on his broom high above. Or rather she had first _felt_ the weight of his eyes upon her as she stumbled through the rolling moor. Not knowing the difference between her friends and enemies, she had tried to run faster and tripped…

"Come on Prongsie! Stop acting so bloody mental! You've been hovering round this room for three days straight! There's only two weeks left before Hogwarts and we're losing time! If you still even _want_ to plan _half_ those pranks we mapped out for the Slytherins! Moony and Wormtail keep asking when you're coming down. They _are_your houseguests mate. We were wanting to visit the carnie later." The whiny albeit masculine voice was smooth and rich and seemed far away.

It was answered by a deeper voice at her side, so near Hermione nearly flinched with surprise. "Nonsense Padfoot!" His voice was slightly rougher than that of his polished friend and carried a humorous edge the former lacked. "Don't let me keep you from making some carnie bint's dreams come true! Go get 'em, mate! I'm sure you won't disappoint."

"But Prongs…"

"Drop it mate." he cut in. The humor was still there, now carrying a warning with it. "Mum needed a rest from watching her and I feel sort of responsible for her ya know?"

The impatiently smooth voice was closer then and less demanding than before. "But you're wasting time with this bird, Prongs! Didn't the healer say she'd wake up whenever she was ready? Meanwhile why don't you come up to the village with us?" Dryly he added, "Maybe she's waiting for you to leave her alone before she wakes up anyhow."

A pause…

Hermione froze.

"Maybe…but _you_ didn't find her. You didn't see how much the bastards tortured her. Healer said she would have died if I hadn't found her when I did. Someone cast some pretty dark curses on her. She screams in her sleep sometimes and—I feel like it helps her to have someone here."

"Mummy P. told Tippy to watch after her though didn't she?"

Sheepishly, the other boy replied, "Um…yeah…but I sort of gave her the day off."

"Prongs!" The demanding whining Padfoot was back again.

"Shh! Keep your voice down you git! I don't want mum to know I'm in here. She thinks I haven't slept a wink and practically hexed my arse off for it this morning when she found me still in here."

After a light bark-like laugh, the other said, "Well, you know, generally I would applaud you for being caught unawares in a lady's bedroom…"

"No doubt mum would have applauded _you_for getting caught in a girl's bed."

"Prongs, I'm cut deep! Mummy P. only wants the best for me!"

"Sod off Padfoot! Go teach Remus and Pete the tricks of the dog trade. Show 'em how to lick themselves properly like a good puppy!" Laughter had returned in full force, and as he continued with his crude jokes she heard several grunts that signaled the beginning of a lighthearted fist fight.

"Dangerous words, Prongs! If you say anything else I'll go tell Mummy P. exactly what you're doing up here alone with a strange girl!"

"Git!"

"Bastard!"

They laughed until a chair upturned and landed on its back.

Their voices sounded comically as one, "Shit!"

She blinked through a sea of dim blurry images, felt as though she were being pulled out of a hundred year sleep and hadn't used her muscles in ages.

Two tall figures moved cautiously around the room and a sweet motherly voice called from below them.

"James? Was that you? Did you disobey my orders again?"

The two black haired boys grinned cheekily at one another before the shorter of the two marched through the open doorway. "Oh no! It's just me Mummy P.! Went looking for James to take him with us to the Carnival!"

The taller of the two troublemakers shut the door with a soft click and as he turned she shut her eyes again.

She tried not to panic. Where was she? Had they caught her, the ones who did this to her?

She flexed her fingers, waiting for the feel of glass in her palm. Her brow twitched with the slightest of frowns. Her skin was grooved, obviously scarred; yet otherwise smooth and only a distant dull ache remaining.

In fact, she felt a world apart from her misery before.

"_Sigh_…" The boy took her freshly healed hand in his hesitantly. She was surprised when he began to speak to her as though he had known her forever. "That was a close call…Sorry about Sirius. He can be a right git sometimes but he always pulls through you know. Mum won't find me out before tomorrow morning. So don't worry. I won't let you be here alone."

She flinched when his thumb grazed her open palm.

He gasped, held his breath and waited.

When she didn't open her eyes he let out the breath he had been holding and after another moment began to speak again.

"I wish you would wake up so you could tell us what happened to you…"

_Wish I knew the answer to that too…_

"A friend of ours from school lost her entire family last term…got blown up for defying Voldomort. Aurors never caught the ones who did it. The Ministry says there's a war coming, but Dad says it's already started. And we're all caught in the middle."

When his much larger hand tightened round hers she didn't flinch this time. His voice held a new edge, an intensity that caused something to twist inside of her chest. "I want you to know I'm going to find out who did this to you. I won't let what happened to Winifred happen to you. When I find them I'm going to make them feel what you felt and worse…"

Her brow furrowed and she blinked, surprised at the tears now leaking from the corners of her eyes. There was no use denying tears.

The lamplight was not bright enough to make the room past the canopied bed very apparent. Yet it cast a warm glow on the black haired boy now bent over her bedside. Knee propped against the bottom edge of the bed he hung his head, thick messy black hair sticking every which way. His lightly tanned skin was furrowed above his brow, and a pair of round, thin rimmed spectacles had fallen down the bridge of his straight nose. She could not see his eyes, but knew that whatever thoughts were stewing in them were because of _her_.

Guilt warmed her cheeks, pulled at her chest till she felt sick. Somehow, though she couldn't give a reason, she knew she was not worth being looked after. She had failed someone she couldn't remember. She would only hurt the ones who depended on her…

She didn't notice her tears kept spilling, only that when her vision ceased to blur his head had risen and turned a fraction to her. His eyes widened instantly, switching from fury to excitement in a second.

"You're awake!"

She cringed when he quite literally jumped out of his chair, causing it to teeter on its legs. With a curse he whirled round, catching it just shy of the carpeted floor.

Grumbling as he set it to rights, he rounded on her and plopped onto the side of her bed, his long bent leg brushing against her thigh. The brightest of grins lit up his features, pulled his cheeks over his strong jaw. And though she couldn't give a reason why, a very warm familiar feeling washed over her. The force of it was so unexpected she nearly tore her hand from his once he reclaimed it.

This boy was attractive, and not _just_ handsome in a kind of bloody gorgeous way that made her desperate to turn away but unable to move. She stared and he stared just as goofily happily back. He was eerily familiar. But she wondered how this could be when she knew she had never met anyone with this much life in their eyes before now?

After several moments accompanied by a ticking clock hidden somewhere in the shadows the raven-haired boy laughed. "Well this is some way to greet your knight in shining armor!" The moment after he blurted out his greeting he lowered his head, ran a free hand through his short, wild mane.

She frowned and repeated, "My knight?" Her frown deepened at the strained raspy voice that greeted her ears.

He grinned, tipping his mouth high to one side in a decidedly arrogant attitude that suggested he was wholly unaware of himself. "Yup! You're lucky I snuck out before breakfast to test the winds. Mum only gave me half an earful for it later because I saved your life but you should have seen the look on her face! Me carrying a bloody girl through over our dining hall carpet! Oh and not bloody in a—a bad way you see, you just looked a little—worse for wear." His tone and expression darkened so quickly she was certain had she blinked she would have missed it. His hand squeezed hers and he leaned closer over his drawn up knee.

His words also reminded her of the state she had been whenever she first…_arrived_…from wherever it was.

_Someone had been trying to kill her._That much was obvious. The rest was not. _She had failed someone…_

"Don't worry." He interrupted her dark thoughts with his vehemence. "You're safe with me. They won't find you here…and if they do…" An unsettling grin crept with the almost frightening gleam stewing in his eyes.

"Where am I?" she interrupted.

He blinked, eyes widening behind his round spectacles before his brow furrowed. "Oh!" In the lamplight, she realized his eyes were a muddled hazel. "What an insensitive git I've been! Mum would have my head for not giving you the _state of things_ as she calls it." He turned to the room briefly, thoughtfully, yet with a warm possessiveness she found herself envying. "_This_ is home." His eyes blazed into hers, lips tipping into his ever present grin. "And as long as you need it, this is your home too. Name's James! Uh…James Potter, and this is the Stag Shack." His grin turned cheeky and then hesitant. "Don't ever tell Mum we call it that though. She'd deny Sirius had anything to do with it and blame me. Would start worrying the whole of the Wizarding World would find out and laugh. We may not be Pure-bloody snobs but we're still Purebloods…" The last he added as an afterthought, "unfortunately."

She gulped, unsettled by the constant graze of his thumb against her palm and his thigh pressed against hers.

He seemed to try and wait for her introductions while shaking the leg that hung off the edge of the bed incessantly. There was a nervous energy that surrounded James Potter, the kind of passionate nature that was certain to grate her nerves and endear him to her at once. The tilt of his head was faintly aristocratic and arrogant in a way that reminded her of a watered down version of someone else she had known…

_The outline of his face in her mind was vague, framed by thick dark hair, and surrounded by shouts and cries…then it was gone._

Impatiently unable to wait any longer, "So what's your name? I have to say you've got mum's knickers in a twist! She knows almost every Witch in the Kingdom, from Pureblood to Muggleborn but she couldn't remember your face. Said you looked sort of familiar but couldn't put a name to the face." He paused, waited for her reaction, yet after several seconds beneath her unaltered stare, he ducked his head and played with the faintly ridged skin of her palm. "So…uh…care to share?"

She hesitated and opened her mouth and…the answer wouldn't come. "I—I can't." She frowned.

The crestfallen pull of his eyes was tucked swiftly away as he forced another grin. "Right…right I understand. Can't let the Death Eaters know you're here…"

"No, that's not it." She wanted him to understand, wanted _someone_ to understand, so they could start helping her figure out what the hell was going on!

"It's okay love…"

"No, listen!" The rasp was dragging her words yet he seemed to get the message. "I can't tell you because I don't know! I can't—remember." She frowned, shut her eyes and searched her stubbornly blank mind. Each time she had tried since waking up soaking wet on a sunny summer day she faced the same impenetrable wall.

His other hand came to cup the underside of her palm, enclosed it with the warmth that radiated of him. His hazel eyes pleaded with his own need to know. "Can't you remember anything?"

_Hermione_…

As though conjured by his words, the name slipped through the barrier and she opened her tear filled eyes.

He was concerned for her and then upon seeing her tears, to her surprise, angry.

"Hermione?" She questioned herself, eyes unable to tear from his again. The dark green within his hazel depths brightened then with the intensity she was beginning to associate with him, this boy who had saved her life.

"Hermione?" He echoed with a soft, sad smile. "Is that your name, love?"

A line between her brows creased with her worry. "I think so…yes, I think it is." Fury came back full force in a look he seemed unable to mask and she bit her lip. "I'm sorry."

His eyebrows shot up. "What for?"

"You're angry with me."

If anything her words only incensed his fleeting emotions.

"What? No! Why would I be angry with you? I'm mad at the bloody _bastards_ who did this to you! The healer said the curse was powerful but we didn't know how…" Hermione watched as the black haired boy's whole frame suddenly tensed. He turned at the abrupt rush of footsteps treading the hall just beyond her door.

Only after the footsteps faded did he turn back to her. And when he did Hermione caught her breath at the full weight of his gaze. "If my mum asks, tell her I just came in to check on you a minute ago, yeah?" Something in his eyes denied her denial to his request before she had even agreed to it. "Brilliant!" He smiled, flashing a white grin. "For the record, I am _not_ a miserable prat with his head up his arse, no matter what they tell you."

"Who?"

"JAMES POTTER!"

Hermione and James both turned to find the tall and graceful form of a beautifully furious woman standing in the open doorway. When Hermione tried to pry her hand from his he only held it tighter between both.

"Oi Mum! Gonna go deaf if you keep shouting like that…"

Arms wrapped across her sapphire robed chest the silver haired _Mummy P_. Sirius had spoken of marched to him in a huff. "You will have reasons to shout if your father comes home and finds you went against the healer's instruction! This poor girl has been through enough without you chattering on at her in her sleep. She needs to be resting, and she won't be resting with you trying to wake her from this dreadful curse!" Her bold blue eyes, the same sapphire as her dress darted to the hand her son held and finally met the very awake and frightened eyes of said girl. "Sweet Nimue! She's awake!"

Dorea Potter was beautiful though silver haired and obviously older than the average mum of a boy Hermione's age. Her face was one of high cheekbones and sharp angles that served to heighten her beauty rather than harden it. Her eyes were soft as the pillow beneath Hermione's sore head now, motherly in a distantly familiar way. "Oh you poor dear…" Alighting to the other side of her sons' seat on the high bed, she cast him a reproachful glare. "You should have told me she was awake James."

He frowned when she pushed him gently away from Hermione's bedside and sat in his place. "Mum!" He protested, but she was already focused on Hermione, hand on her forehead and lips pursed in thought.

Hermione watched as a mischievous gleam entered his mother's sapphire eyes when James' protests did not end.

"I wasn't here long! You can ask Hermione. I just came in to check on her a bit before supper. Isn't that right, Hermione?"

He was trying to catch her eye but Hermione could only smile faintly and nod. Dorea's gaze was unrelenting, yet she seemed to see something in Hermione's eyes that answered her own silent questions. Because she cupped her hand against the younger Witch's cheek and smiled warmly. "He means well dear."

"Means well? Of course I mean well Mum! I'm the one who bloody found her!"

"Language, James…" Dorea remarked absently, all the while studying the mysterious Witch who had brought the War into their house. When James began another round of protests Dorea turned a firm eye to her son. "Why don't you go see how the boys are getting along now? Sirius told me to come check on you if you didn't come down within the hour. Was worried you would miss out on all the fun."

Hermione saw a dark scowl cloud James' naturally happy nature.

His fists tightened as he began to grumble threats under his breath she could only half hear. "Impossible git…wait till I…see if I keep _his_ arse off the line next time Filch…"

"James?" Mrs. Potter smiled sweetly. "The boys said they'd meet you at the carnival."

His jaw clenched. "Mum I can't just leave! She just…"

"Now darling?" Dorea's tone had not changed, yet still held affect with her passion driven son.

He huffed a sigh and nodded, broad shoulders dropping in defeat. "Yes ma'am."

Neither Dorea Potter nor Hermione saw the intent and wistful look he gave the young Witch before stepping out the door and racing down the long hall.

* * *

'**BANG**'

The metal bottles exploded to crumbling pieces with more force than necessary. James already was throwing his next mini bludger. The Carnie was glancing nervously at him and James had not missed a throw yet.

"Come on Prongs! You know how Mummy P. can get sometimes!"

'**BANG**'

'**CRUNCH**'

James cast a dark look at his so-called best mate. "_You_ knew exactly what you were doing Pads. You didn't want me to spoil your plans so you ratted me out." James wanted to throttle Sirius just thinking about how lost Hermione had looked as he left. He had promised to stay by her side, after all, hadn't he? Each time he looked at her he still saw her nearly lifeless skin coated red. He thought about the bastards who had done this to her and recognized the fact that for him, things would never be the way they were before.

"Aren't you going to pick a prize James?" asked Peter Pettigrew, another one of his best mates pointed to the cautious Carnie.

James cast a cursory glance at the stuffed animal prizes. Why had he decided to throw bludgers again?

Sirius was rubbing his hands together in the way that meant he was caught and knew it.

His eyes narrowed.

_Oh yeah, to keep from murdering my best friend._

"You gonna pick something or what?" The Carnie asked, then dragged on his cigarette impatiently.

James rolled his eyes, voice taking on more edge than he intended. "Do you see a line waiting behind us? Just give me a minute will you?"

Sirius held his hands up, guilty look on his puppy dog expression. "Look, okay, maybe I did want you to get out of the house. So sue me! Drop me to the deepest part of the bottomless lake! But first at least let me show you what we have planned!"

Remus Lupin watched on from behind Sirius, and James met the Werewolf's eyes momentarily, sharing a light smirk. Remus saw things more clearly than anyone else James knew, and right now was watching with mild interest, a blend of curiosity and thought. What was he thinking?

"Remus, what do you think?" James called out to the fourth Marauder, who in a way was the true reason they were the Marauder's in the first place. They had all become Animagi after all, because of him. To keep him company during his monthly transformations.

The Werewolf waited with his hands in his pockets a moment before nodding his head to the Carnie. "I think you should get something for your mystery girl so the trip down wasn't a total waste."

_Of course!_

James' eyes lit up. "Brilliant Moony!" It was just the sort of thing that would lift her spirits! Or was it? He twisted back round to check the selection and pointed to the orange ball of fluff on impulse.

The Carnie practically shoved the stuffed animal into his arms but he cared little. And turned round to the other magically lit attractions and rides that made up the carnival.  
He heard the Marauders fall into step around him, Sirius at his right and Remus at his left, Peter on the other side of Remus. Together they often felt invincible, like they could conquer anything. And right then James had forgotten why he was mad at Sirius…to the secret relief of the rogue Pureblood at his side.

All the Marauders knew to take James' passions in stride, much as they did Sirius' temper tantrums. Remus and Peter helped to balance out the two best mates nicely. Peter did right by often being oblivious to arguments and saying the right thing at the wrong time. Remus was infamous for putting both of them off guard and in their place. And thanks to the sandy haired Marauder, Sirius' transgressions had been forgotten.

How could he have done anything but forget while remembering the smile he had seen caress her full lips while listening to his mother. Would Hermione smile at _him_ like that when he gave her his present?

A cold wave of fear froze the warmth that was building in his chest.

_She could hate it…_

Would she think it too childish? She had just come to them a bloody mess unable to remember anything save her first name. What if she it reminded her too keenly she could never go back to childish things?

"What's the matter Prongs?" Peter asked, watching him with his small yet clear blue eyes.

James shrugged, steeled his resolve and carried the large stuffed animal in a way that dared challenge anyone's comments. Pasting a sure grin to help convince himself he glanced at his much shorter friend. "Absolutely nothing in the world Wormtail."

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**Review: If you love the Marauders as much as I do!**


	5. I: gloriously awakened

**A/N: This chapter is shorter, but very important ;) Enjoy!**

**E :)**

* * *

**PART 1: PRE-HOGWARTS**

**Chapter 5**

**gloriously awakened**

* * *

Sirius didn't complain about them returning from the carnival early without chasing any of the usual shallow bints, nor did he mention their plans for Slytherin this year. Instead he played on his best mate's good cheer and proposed a game of Quidditch.

James was on Cloud 9 at the mere mention of flying, but the prize in his hands made him hesitate. The memory of her broken body weightless in his arms tied him back to earth. James had never seen so much blood on a person in his life, hadn't known someone could bleed so much and still be alive. So much sorrow worn on a face so young unsettled him.

_And her eyes…like nothing would ever make them light up again…_

Promising to meet them on the old Quidditch pitch his grandfather had built a century before, James ignored the curiosity in Remus' eyes and the knowing glare Sirius sent his way. His mates could wait.

He bounded the grand staircase greeting the main entrance, two stairs a time.

Deliciously short of breath he turned down the guest hall. Remus and Pete shared the guest room beside he and Sirius' rooms on the third floor among the family rooms. But this hall had been housing Wizards and Witches as long as Potters had been on this plot of land-a _very _long time. And in all the years they had entertained guests, James had never had any reason to come down this hall of his own volition.

He reached her door in record time, muscles lightly burning from the exertion and an immovable grin plastered on his face. Twisting the knob he half expected his mother to stop him by the skin of his neck like she still occasionally did when he was stupid enough to get caught.

Breathing a quick thanks to the fates James found the room empty and with a swish of his wand behind his back the stuffed animal was shrunk to fit in his palm.

The room seemed brighter since he had left, lamp no longer dimmed and the bed no longer occupied.

_She's gone…_

Was this why his mother was so eager for him to leave before? James would never question his mother's motives. But he also couldn't forget she was a Black. And there had been times James was unsure if she felt just as strongly about muggle-born rights as his father did.

Was she too suspicious of the girl who had arrived so mysteriously on their doorstep? James never dwelt on his darker thoughts, but he couldn't help them either. And they dumped on top of him now like an ice cold bucket of water.

Where would she have gone? She couldn't have been sent off by his mother already could she? James had to admit he had half expected her to ship the Witch off to St. Mungo's on sight.

His eyes widened and he didn't bother to sneak any farther, fear clutching his chest as he turned. The wardrobe across from the four-poster bed was open. And the faintest of sighs escaped from the other side. Hope blazed in his chest with bursts of canons firing and such. Of course his mother would never send her away! She may have been born a Black, but she had married a blood traitor. And she was _his_Mum. James forgot he had ever doubted her.

He was upon the wardrobe in a fraction of a second, pulling the door wide…and greeted by a shout from the other side.

Hermione had her back to him; trying to fiddle with the old fashioned white _brazier_ round her middle.

His jaw gaped.

They had been forced to trash her clothes, which were soiled and blood riddled beyond repair. She had been wearing a frilly lace spare nightgown ever since. And he had to admit, whomever the brazier belonged to, he had never in his wildest dreams imagined another piece of garment could be so…

No matter how unprepared James Potter had been to find his Witch indecently arousing… he was unprepared for the sight of the Witch's bare torso, thankfully turned away from his eyes…_barely_. And a very tight and uncomfortable heat crash flooded his system, settled low, leaving his lightly tanned cheeks burning. He tried to turn away yet for whatever _mental_ reason his feet and his eyes remained rooted to one spot.

Her eyes caught his open mouthed stare and she screeched a broken cry, covered herself with one arm and stumbled as she backed to the opposite wardrobe door. "**Get out**!"

James jumped into action, turning to flee, "I—I'm sorry—I wasn't trying to—shit, I mean…" he ran straight into the door he had flung aside. Creaking on its ancient hinges, the old wood teetered back and then smacked him again in the face. "_**Oof**__!"_ His glasses fell from the bridge of his nose and he was either too disoriented or stupid to catch them.

_Pick one…_

He groaned, knowing he had just royally screwed up. He stumbled, seeing stars for a moment and reached out his hands to catch himself. Momentarily blind he felt something smooth and all too soft, like silk…

"_Ah_! That's me you idiot!"

"Sorry! I just dropped my—'_**CRUNCH'**_—glasses…" He finished with a groan as his foot made contact.

_This day couldn't get any worse!_

"Um, James, you're still touching my leg."

"_Sigh…_" Beaten he sank to the carpeted floor in a huff and looked past the blurry images for his spectacles.

_If Mum knew about this she'd have a fit…_

He couldn't see the look on his face as he prepared to dig his grave and crawl into it. Or know how endearingly pitiful and adorably boyish she found it.

He opened his mouth to speak several times, but knew anything that would come out of it would only make the situation worse.

He was shocked to hear a low hum and then several restrained bell-like giggles. He lifted his bowed head hopefully, not thinking he might find a repeat of the image forever burned into his mind, and a place he was trying _not_ to focus on right now.

Her blurry image was backed against the wardrobe and she wasn't merely giggling now, she was laughing, infectiously.

James grinned, seeing a light at the end of a dark tunnel.

"You _stupid_ git!" She sighed and the words sounded like heaven.

His grin tilted and he leaned back at the baseboard of her bed. "A man can only try." The words were less sure than he attempted.

She finished changing into her borrowed robes. He knew because he heard the wardrobe shut with two strained creaks. And now she was kneeling in front of him, her hand using his bent knee to help steady down.

Breathing for him, mysteriously, became a challenge.

James prayed she didn't scrutinize him too closely or the situation might become more awkward than it already was. He _was_ still a randy seventeen-year-old after all.

Her small hand still pressed to his knee, he clenched his jaw when she came into focus, closer now. Though her features were blurred he could make the lamp lit outline of her face and thick chocolate colored curls that haloed it. She smelled fresh, faintly of apples and his tongue was tied from the dozen stupid lines he kept trying to deliver.

Her hand left his knee, which felt comparatively cold, and took one of his hands into her small fingers. "Here." A small metal object was placed in them. Cracked glass…

_Shit…_

"It's okay, you know." Her soft voice was no longer raspy and dry. He suddenly realized he hadn't given her any water or offered her anything after she woke. From being magically sustained for three days! While mentally hitting himself with a bludger, James realized he liked the lilt of her rich tone. "I'm sure you've seen much more than that on a girl." She closed his fingers over his spectacles.

_Yes, but never in real life, just in Sirius' bloody muggle magazines_.

"Do you know how to mend them?" she asked.

_Beautiful…_

Frowning he realized his other hand was holding her 'get well' gift. "Ah…yeah." Focusing on the object in his hand he focused the words through his thoughts.

_**Occulis reparo**!_

Glasses mended he stared at them in his open hand rather than put them on again. He was afraid if he did she would see his eyes as clearly as he saw _her_. And somehow, he knew he wasn't just talking about breasts and perfect satin white skin...

Her laughter broke his thoughts and she said, "Still in shock I see. Here, it's the least I can do for my knight, you know."

_Her hands_were_touching_his face, fingers brushing past his hair. His nerves were on fire as her caress registered with his lost mind.

His vision cleared to see her warm amber eyes smiling down at him. He wondered if he had ever been awake before this moment.

He was still staring slightly open mouthed at his Witch, unaware he had just thought of her as _his_ yet quite aware her hand had lingered to hesitantly smooth his hair.

Her smile wavered and she pulled away. "There. Better, I hope?"

He nodded.

"You look like a fish right now, you know," she stated.

He nodded again.

Hermione's brow drew together, pensive. "You must have hit your head harder than it looked. Are you okay?"

He could only _bloody_ nod!

"Your mum was kind enough to lend me these. She said they used to be hers. Tomorrow she's buying me some robes in Diagon Alley…" She sat back on the carpet, propping herself with her hands. She bit her lower lip and played with the edge of the golden fabric. "I don't really care what they look like. And I don't know if I'm ready to face a lot of people just yet." Her voice faded and he watched her thoughts fly over her expressive face. He was aware of the blush on her cheeks, still angry with himself for barging in without thinking, and the fact she refused to meet his eye now.

Thankfully he had calmed down enough to gather his wits about him. On average, the Marauders and nearly everyone else who knew James Potter had a difficult time getting him to shut up or calm down.

Just now he was anything but calm, yet realizing if he didn't say something soon she would think him rude.

"Here," He said, holding up his closed fist for her to inspect. The moment the word was spoken, time rushed to catch up with his senses and sure grin back into place, he challenged her with an arched brow. "To make up for my indiscretion I offer you this valiantly won trinket milady!"

"Trinket?" Hermione's eyes were wide and subdued, waiting and watching for whatever was about to spring from his closed fist. "What did you…oh!"

Wave of his wand and the stuffed animal sprung from its tiny shape into the soft cuddly form she was now drawing against her chest and burying her face in.

He propped against his knee, smiling as she obviously approved. Yet he began to worry again when she didn't pull her face from the soft orange kneazle. "Hermione?" he began.

She lifted her head slowly, dark curls spilling into her angled features. Tears filled her large amber eyes and were falling onto her cheeks. He nearly cursed himself when he noticed the sad smile on her lips.

Pensively, he asked, "Hope you don't think it's too childish or anything. I won it at the carni and thought it might cheer you up… Can see I'll have to find other ways of making you smile, yeah?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, no, it's perfect. I just…I don't think you should give anything else to me."

He sat up, indignant. "Why ever not?"

She smoothed the kneazle's fur. "I can't remember anything that happened before waking up half dead in your yard, besides my name…" Her eyes were shining with a pain James had never known himself. They pleaded for him to comprehend. "But I know I'm not a person who deserves to receive anything from anyone. It would make me feel better if you wouldn't treat me this way."

He scowled, challenged and hating her words more with each passing second. "Bullshit!" He tamed the fire behind his words and her startled eyes eased. "Hermione you were hit with dark magic. And I could sense dark arts on you a meter away if you belonged to them…but you _don't_. So let me decide how I get to treat you, since I was the one to find you. And if you still hate me after that, I'll leave you alone till you say otherwise."

_Like hell you could avoid her now…_ His own thoughts mocked him.

She bit her lip, looking anywhere but his eyes and nodded.

"Brilliant!" He stood quickly, eyes glancing at the wardrobe and then Hermione and forcing his attentions on the decidedly bushy haired Witch below him, "So I was thinking that tomorrow we could test your new legs on the Stag Shack. What do you say? There are plenty of places to explore…and plenty of ghosts!" His attempt to appeal sounded more like bullocks to his own ears. But Hermione didn't seem phased and a small smile was even beginning to form at her lips! He grinned. Her hair at the moment looked even more unruly than his!

Offering a hand, she slipped her own hesitantly into his and he pulled her easily to her feet. The top of her head came to his neck, a spot he decidedly liked, her neck craning to meet his gaze.

Their eyes locked.

The air shifted, crackled intensely with a new energy.

He could _feel_ it.

It felt different than anything he had sensed before, and it was practically radiating off the Witch standing inches before him. Her arms, wrapped round her stuffed kneazle, brushed his lower chest and he sucked in a sudden breath, watched as she set her gift onto the bed covers.

When she turned to face him again, James knew instinctively something had just changed that could never be undone.

_**And the ripple echoed through time**…_

* * *

**Review: If you like kneazles ;)**


	6. I: fluffy things like fate

**Part 1: PRE-HOGWARTS**

**Chapter 6**

**fluffy things like fate**

* * *

At supper Hermione met Charlus Potter. He was seated at the head of their ridiculously long dining table, listening to his silver haired wife with adoring eyes.

Rather than the formal affair Hermione had been dreading, they ate a delicious but simple meal provided by well cared for house elves.

For a reason she couldn't explain, seeing them wrapped with fine woolen garments satisfied her. Dressed in such fine robes, Hermione felt like a different person, though she couldn't quite remember what sort of a person she had been before she woke up.

With a snap of his fingers, Hermione was pulled from her thoughts and Charlus summoned them each small glass bowls of frosty ice cream.

James grinned at her from his mother's side and Hermione noticed the friends the Potters had expected were nowhere in sight. James mentioned something about Quidditch between bites, to which Dorea made certain the house elves would have their plates waiting in the kitchens 'for the boys'.

James rolled his eyes and Charlus chuckled to himself. "And why are you not out there with him my boy?" Though the gleam in the silver haired man's dark brown eyes, glancing pointedly Hermione's way though she did not know it, betrayed his opinion.

James shrugged and stuffed his face to avoid his answer, though his eyes flickered to hers from across the table again and he subtly winked.

The sage Wizard's expression turned from mischievous to thoughtful in an instant and Hermione knew from where his sons' temperament had come. "So, my dear, Dorea says you cannot remember anything that happened before you woke up here?"

She nodded, pushing the sharp memory from her mind, the same one that made her healed wounds and bruises ache fresh once again. She swirled the vanilla flavored ice round in her cup.

"I see…_ahem_…wondrous and dreadful thing, the mind is… If only there was more we could do to help you ourselves. Unfortunately none of us are skilled Legillimens here but I hope you do not mind, I have taken the liberty of calling upon someone who might help you."

James' head shot up from his second helping of ice cream, brow furrowed. "Who is it Dad?"

Charlus kept his eyes on Hermione and answered the question waiting in her eyes as well. "A very old friend."

Dorea Potter turned to her son then, speaking for the first time since Charlus addressed Hermione. "We're having a special dinner for him as well. You and the boys do not have to join us if you do not care to darling, but Hermione's attendance is certainly required."

James grinned and said, "I'm too curious not to come now Mummy dearest."

Dorea rolled her eyes but Hermione caught the suppressed pleased grin twitching at the corners of her mouth.

"Brilliant!" Charlus exclaimed in a way that sounded exactly like an older James. He turned to Hermione with a warm smile that made her feel as if she could never feel cold again. "You are free to have a look about the Manor tomorrow my dear. No doubt James has already offered you the grand tour." He grinned slyly at his son. "I know he has already spoken to you of our invitation to stay long as you like, but I wanted to pass it on myself. Formally, you know." A yawn masked by his palm then and for a second the elder Potter seemed burdened in that moment by a thousand cares she did not know.

Hermione wondered with the depths of such a dark glare, what James' father did for a living?

Why did James have no brothers and sisters since he obviously had parents who loved one another and him so very much?

Who was this friend they had invited to dinner tomorrow eve to meet and hopefully help her?

And how had Hermione been smiled upon by the fates by having met and been adopted into the home of such warm and loving people? For despite James' insistence, she hardly felt worthy of so much attention and care from so many worthy people.

Remembering his anger from her questioning her dubious loyalties before, Hermione found her eyes seeking his face. As though he could read her thoughts, his eyes were waiting for hers, and the intensity and admiration within them held a new glint Hermione tried not to notice.

* * *

"What took you so long, Prongs?" Sirius Black growled as he brought his broom low.

They had waited a while for James to show up, given up and shown off for a few girls back at the carnival an hour or two. When they came back and snuck into the kitchens they heard James' laughter competing with his fathers'. And now that their missing Marauder had at last escaped the Stag Shack, he was _still_ wearing his old jumper, jeans and trainers! Nimbus aside, he was obviously unprepared for a nasty two on two Quidditch match!

Remus and Peter were up in the air still, tossing a bludger back and forth, though Peter's attempts seemed feeble compared to Remus' frightening Werewolf strength.

"What's that smell?" There was something oddly sweet clinging to his best mate tonight, Sirius noted. Nose wrinkling, he thought the scent was pleasant enough. His eyes narrowed when he took in the spring to Prongs' step, goofy grin annoyingly plastered to his face and sun struck look in his practically glowing eyes.

James had yet to acknowledge any of Sirius' interrogation. Only now did he look down into his best friends narrowed gray eyes to laugh.

"What did I do, Pads? Must have been something awful if I'm to be the brunt end of _that_ look." One thick brow arched and then he was settling onto his broom. It lifted into the air above Sirius with ease, wind instantly sticking his black hair even more on end. "What are you doing standing on the ground for? We're out here to play Quidditch, yeah?"

Sirius sank onto his broom roughly, shot up into the air just a foot away from James. "Yeah! That_was_ the bloody plan Prongsie…five hours ago!"

James had the decency to lower that infuriating grin and look sheepish. "Oh, yeah, sorry about that Padfoot. I got ah…well…" His face, though only lit by moonlight was very much red. Prongs was _blushing_?

"Well?"

"I went up to give her the present but sort of—ah," running a hand roughly through his hair, "—walked in on her changing."

Sirius' fury was instantly gone and a sly grin easing his temper.

_Now this is a different matter indeed…_

James knew that look and frowned the more Sirius' smile widened. "What? Don't look at me like that Padfoot. It was nothing like t-that…It's not like I saw anything!"

"Oh?"

"Yeah!"

"Hmm…" Sirius loved his brother enough to die for him. He also loved to give him heat when the moment called for it. And now was definitely one of those moments. Pressing him a bit further, he began to circle James on his broom. "So how was she?"

"Shut up about it will you?" James' jaw clenched and his eyes shot daggers through Sirius.

_Definitely the wrong track to take…_

"Listen, mate, I wasn't trying to guilt you into admitting anything! Just thought it might help you to, ya know…get it off your chest. I'm always here to listen, especially about birds. No, I take that back, only about birds."

James groaned and began to ease to where Peter was barely dodging Remus' hurls. "You're not helping Padfoot. I knew I couldn't talk to you about this…"

_Hmm…even more interesting…_

"Try me. You might be surprised." Sirius caught up easily when James flew sensibly enough. Soon they were sailing past the other two Marauders and in and out through the hoops.

Sirius was all ears.

James was rarely serious like this. Only about three things: the Marauders, Lily and the War, in that order. And for the first time since fourth year, Sirius Black heard his best friend talking about a girl _other_ than Lily.

He ignored the gnawing voice in the back of his head, the annoying one that sounded too much like a conscience.

James did try. And Sirius listened, and found himself just as curious about this mysterious Hermione as James was…for slightly different reasons.

The last time he had seen her she had been asleep, her body fighting off a dark curse that caused his nerves to stand on end. For a reason he couldn't fathom she seemed to have his family's disease written all over the darkness eating her alive. She had survived the curse, which meant she was stronger than his cousins had suspected. It was only a question of _which_ within his lovely Death Eater family had done the deed. Bella? Cissy's little bitch? Or Regulus?

"Pads? You sure you didn't have too many Butterbeers with Griselda and Gwen earlier?"

Sirius cursed just before colliding with the uppermost branches of an ancient oak. The twigs tore at his pant legs. "Shit!"

James was laughing again and with the sound Sirius almost forgot the possibility his family had tried to kill James' Hermione. His brow shot up when he realized he had just referred to her as_James'_.

"How did you know we met up with those Witches?"

James rolled his eyes and said, "Give me a little credit Padfoot. I _have_known you for twelve years now. You've got the Beatty twins written all over you."

Sirius allowed a lazy smirk to settle in. "Right you are Prongsie!" Prongs may be master of the look of _handsomely arrogant Quidditch god_, but Sirius was reigning king of _devilishly sexy aristocrat playboy_. Though that was a direct quote from Lily Evans, who more than likely had meant it as an insult and not the compliment Sirius had taken it for…

"So what do you think?" James asked once they had both stopped to stare at the world from a perch below the clouds. Sirius saw the world stretching on forever in either direction, _their_ world. But James was focused on the place he valued as much as his friends, _home_.

"I think that I've never heard you talk about another girl besides Lily before." Sirius watched his reaction carefully.

James nodded, his smile beginning slowly and erupting quickly to light his eyes. "I know none of this makes any sense Padfoot. Something's been off ever since she came. I can't explain what it is about her. It's not just that she's beautiful." He colored, obviously remembering the glorious greeting she'd given him earlier, clenched his jaw. "I can't stop thinking about her. And not just—what I saw earlier today. It's gotten so much stronger ever since she woke up. I can't explain why I feel this need to protect her. It's like something is pushing me towards her for some reason."

Sirius wasn't a believer in these sorts of things, fate and all that fluffy stuff seemed like bullocks. But he still found himself saying, "Maybe you _are_ meant to protect her, mate."

* * *

**Review: If ye like :)**


	7. I: of books and mirrors

**A/N: mostly a bit of deceptively innocent fun ;)**

* * *

**Part 1: PRE-HOGWARTS**

**Chapter 7**

**of books and mirrors**

* * *

She couldn't sleep. After lying awake in bed for the required hours her internal clock needed, Hermione slipped into the robes Dorea Potter had lent her and pushed her window's curtains aside.

She was pleased to find the tall window a glass door that led to a small balcony. The stars were still shining dimly above while the sky was beginning to spill over into colors Hermione drank in. She blinked as the cool morning wind caught her long brown ringlets and pulled at the springs. Shivering slightly she blinked again, this time seeing an explosion of color where the sun was beginning to rise.

She panicked.

Because she wasn't seeing the usual colors that greeted the world each morning painted in the sky, but rather colors she had never _seen_ before. Her nerves stood on end, magic hovered just beneath the skin in a way Hermione knew in her heart of hearts was not normal. She squeezed her eyes shut, but even through the veil of closed lids, could still somehow see the colors. Gripping on to the ancient stone railing that met above her waist she tried to calm the sudden jolt of her heart, the race of her pulse.

Was this a result of the dark curse that the healer said put her out for three days and had made her wounds worse than they would have been? Hermione knew it didn't make any sense. There was no record of a dark curse causing people to see new _colors_. Her frown deepened, eyes opened to the pure gold of a new sun. She froze in the midst of her surprise.

_How did she know there was no record?_

And suddenly Hermione realized she _did_ know for certain. Because the pages leapt before her mind, memories of endless texts she has researched, all about dark curses. Clearly displayed now as though she were staring at the magically protected pages and not this strange new dawn. The words played out in her mind, practically memorized.

She gasped. _How was this possible?_

Why would she be able to remember something like this with so much detail and nothing about who she was?

What did it say about her that she knew so much about the Dark Arts?

Had James been wrong?

What if she had been on the other side of the War?

Had they punished her?

Was that the reason she had run away from a battle?

Hermione watched the sunrise and began to search her blank mind for anything else and was met with nothing.

Perhaps the knowledge had to be brought to light by true need?

She worried her lip, watched the new colors that danced within the sun until her eyes could take no more. They began to fade the moment she thought of the Potters, of _James_.

She smiled thinking of his open mouthed stare, unable to take his eyes off her half naked chest and then so embarrassed about it he knocked himself into a wall of wood and broke his spectacles. She had been angry, but seeing him helpless and hopeless and crestfallen from his usual arrogance made her forget to be embarrassed. And though it was only her second time to speak to him face to face, Hermione still felt the strange air of familiarity that met her every time she looked into those hazel orbs. She felt as though she had known him for years rather than days. And judging by the strange look that had taken over his eyes last night after escorting her to her bedroom door, he shared the same feeling.

* * *

James had a wild thought that wouldn't go away no matter how many times Sirius told him it was mental and she would think so too.

In the end, after several pleas and a few not so innocent threats, Sirius had finally agreed to cover for him.

Within seconds James brought his broom outside his bedroom window and slowly eased his way to her room.

She didn't want to see people just yet perhaps, but what would she think about flying?

Convinced she wouldn't label him a "peeping tom", James rounded the front end of the house and tried to avoid notice of the house elves. At least he wouldn't have to worry about his Mum this morning.

No doubt they wouldn't get out of the house before noon, disturbing as the thought was. Charlus had taken the day off from his usual Order and Ministry duties and James' parents were still very much in love. A grin twisted the corner of his mouth, obviously as he was currently breathing air. Born when his Mum was sixty and Dad eighty-six, though because of magic, Wizards aged far more slowly than Muggles. Even now he had heard Dorea Potter affectionately call him her "miracle baby" and decided that was better than when Remus' mum called him "Remmikens"…

"Are you there yet?"

James nearly slid off his broom, having forgotten about the two-way mirror in his robe pocket. Picking out the misshapen oval quickly, his stern eyes met Sirius' predictable impatience. "Get your knickers out of a twist, will ya! And stop listening in unless Mum turns up!"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Fine, but don't count on me waiting here like this once breakfast is out!"

James huffed a weary sigh, shoving the mirror back in its resting place and glanced up, only to find his mouth again hanging open like a fish.

Hermione had risen with the sun, had crept onto her balcony dressed again in his Mum's old golden robes. And with the dawn she took his breath by surprise. Sunlight gleamed on her olive toned skin and tinted her chocolate curls a deep wine red. The real gold inlaid in his Mum's dress finished her otherworldly look.

James had to grip his broom more tightly when he found himself about to crash into the manor's east wing. She turned then at his curse and he forced a confident grin as he came round to meet her. Her eyes weren't simply dark amber, he realized, they were _fire_.

"You're up early this morning. Out looking for another Witch to rescue?" Despite her lighthearted tone, her brow was furrowed by dark thoughts he wanted her to forget. But she smiled for_him_ and he could hear how glad she was that he had come.

_Wrong you were Padfoot! Ha!_

Waving a hand dramatically he prayed this would work. "Thought you could use some fresh air! I like to go for a spin every chance I get. Mum doesn't like to know and pretends me and Sirius don't sneak round her back." His grin widened when she rolled her eyes and held his hand to her. "Come on, you're not afraid to fly are you?"

Hermione froze at his words, frowned yet already her hand was reaching back for his. She hesitated. "I'm not exactly dressed for flying…"

James followed her gaze appreciatively at the way the golden robes clung to her top and flared into a sundress from her knees in front, arcing to dance at her calves. "Oh I don't mind at all…eh, that is…" He forced his eyes meet hers. "No one else will be up for at least another hour. So no worries, yeah?"

"You won't get in trouble for this will you?"

The tilt of his grin took on a dangerous edge, his eyes brightened at the prospect. "Probably."

Her tiny hand was cool and soft as her leg had been…

_Stop it you randy little…_

"Okay." She threw her bare legs over the edge of the balcony and for one blessed moment the fabric bunched to her upper thighs before she eased against his back.

He shuddered when she moved against him. Though separated by yards of fabric, he still saw pale golden skin whenever his eyes closed. Her bare feet settled over his boots, hands rested on his shoulder blades. His eyes widened. "Oh blast, I forgot! Here take off my cloak will you love? I brought it because I thought you might get cold."

"You sure that's safe?" Her words combined with her heady scent and touch made his mind swim.

"Ah…yeah, here." He aided her by lifting one hand at a time and grinned to himself as she lifted the wool over his head, fingers grazing his exposed torso when the fabric pulled at his jumper. "Thanks, love." She took little time to don the cloak and then her hands were on his shoulders again. His blood began to race as his eyes met the greeting sun. "Hang on tight." He breathed, palms flexing against the smooth dark wood, pressing his heels into the hooks his feet molded to.

And then they _were_ air, lightning, climbing fast.

He laughed loud the moment she shrieked and wrapped her arms around his waist, digging her small frame into his much larger one. This time he wasn't as surprised when his body reacted to her touch, heat surging from down low and fleshing out.

Her body, combined with the adrenaline rush of feeling the wind against his face, made him feel more alive in that moment he couldn't have been living before!

Her arms tightened as he spun circles round an invisible line in the air, chuckled and threw his head back. "You alright?" He felt her nod against his shoulder blades, her palms splayed open against the billowing fabric covering his chest. His laughter was caught in the wind and still he climbed higher, circling and looping with powerful ease until Hermione began to relax against him and he brought them even higher to rest.

His heart pounded in his ears, hers pounded against his back. Breathing heavily they both looked down on the tiny grandeur of Potter Manor and Godric's Hollow in the dip below the hill it sat on.

Gusty winds tossed them round with the sway of an ocean wave.

Hermione leaned her head against his jumper, smile in her tone. "That was exactly what I needed."

Tilting his head back he saw only her curls springing in the wind. "See! I knew you'd love it! Nothing gives me the high this does… When I'm up here, I feel…"

"Belonging…" she sighed.

Something shifted inside of James Potter, shifted and clicked into place that he was old enough to recognize and young enough not to understand.

She lifted her head to catch his eye and when he saw the smile widening on her face his heart soared with triumph.

"_Prongs_!" Sirius hissed.

"Ah!" Hermione jumped and James groaned, reaching back to dig into the cloak pocket. "What is that?" Hermione's expression was so classic it was almost comical.

"Prongs! Pick me up damn it!"

He only grinned a reply and held the two-way mirror up. Though he kept a grin on his face for Hermione, his eyes belayed his annoyance at being interrupted.

Sirius was in the shadows and he was nervous. "You better get your girly arse down here! Mummy P. is on her way up to check on _her_ and I'm not about to get caught because of you again!"

James nodded and Hermione took the mirror from him without provocation, slipping it smoothly into his cloak pocket. He glanced back at her in surprise but she was grinning again, wrapping her arms round his chest.

"Well? We better hurry if we're going to make it before she gets there!"

Flashing her a dazzling smile, James toyed with the idea of a wicked freefall, thought better of it and hugged the wind instead.

Hermione's heart beat against his chest and James loved the fact he saw a hint of the Marauder in her eyes just as they lighted onto her balcony.

* * *

Sirius was already on the balcony, gray eyes frantic as he waved them down. "Hurry up you bloody wanker! Oh! Sorry love." The disgruntled Pureblood had finally noticed Hermione stepping off the broom behind James and now trying to shove both of them back on. She slipped off James' thick unflattering cloak, and the sight beneath surprised him.

His eyes swept over her golden form with an appreciative grin and his mood was transformed instantly. Holding out a hand he winked and slightly bowed, "Fancy finding such a nugget like you in the Stag Shack, beautiful. If I'd known how well you cleaned up I might have made James keep watch and taken you up myself…on my _motorcycle_of course. I prefer the grind of an engine to a wooden stick, don't you?"

The last he laid on the emphasis and cheese thick and nearly laughed and broke his concentration at the murderous glare behind James's round-rimmed spectacles.

Hermione barely glanced at him, yet he was struck by how even her eyes gleamed gold in the sunlight. Had he seen her indoors, Sirius might have passed her over as plain. But out here she was _bloody gorgeous_.

_Who was this bird?_

"**_Pads_**…" James' growl was his only warning.

Hermione's hands were on his arms, urging. "Hurry! Get on before you get caught too!"

Sirius allowed her to drag him with an amused smoldering grin. "Anything for you love. Say the word and I'll steal a star and name it Hermione!" Hand flourishing the air, he climbed on behind James, hands on the seething Marauder's shoulders and blew a kiss. "Don't wait up for me!"

He barked a laugh when Hermione rolled her eyes and shut the glass door of her balcony with a resounding click.

_James was going to kill him later…_

* * *

**Review: And tell me which you think is preffered... a devilishly sexy Sirius Black or handsomely arrogant James Potter? lol Honestly, I can't decide between the two just yet. Let's see if this story makes up my mind...**


	8. I: case and point

**A/N: I think J.K should have done a prequel series staring them, or at least a book of what-ifs for fun. Wait, never mind, then we couldn't write our own versions and pretend they were cannon lol.**

* * *

**Part 1: PRE-HOGWARTS**

**Chapter 8**

**case and point**

* * *

Sirius was still laughing after James shut his bedroom window and marched his hysterical best friend out the door. "Aw, come off it Prongs, I was only joking!"

For a split second, James' concentrated brow lifted and his hazel eyes blazed through him in a way that successfully made Sirius look a bit more sheepish.

"Well…mostly," Sirius answered more truthfully. When James' face turned red and his fists tightened at his side he rushed through his words. "I mean, those eyes in the sunlight mate and she—ah…"

"_Yes_, Padfoot?" James' urge for him to continue was more of a threat than well-bred manners.

Sirius offered him a cheeky grin and shrugged. "Sorry mate, it's in my nature you know? Like the dog I am I can't help it sometimes." Yet beneath his best mate's scrutiny, Sirius was beginning to wonder if James had lost his mind. Was it not only two weeks ago he was spouting off his undying love for Evans?

James lifted his chin ever so slightly, eyes narrowing behind his round spectacles as he appraised Sirius. "Find a house elf and tell them Master Potter asked them to bring food to the Marauders rooms."

Sirius' eyes widened. "No breakfast? After what I just risked for you!" He waved his hands in the air dramatically.

"_What_?" James snapped.

Sirius flinched.

"Afraid Mum will start paying attention to your nightly activities once you get caught?"

In different circumstances Sirius might have grinned, but this was a bit much. He frowned. "That was _three_times this summer, mate. And just so you know I am saving myself…"

James crossed his arms over his broad chest and snorted. "Unlikely…"

"For your Hermione…" Wagging his brows suggestively he barely had a warning before James' fist was swinging his way.

"That's _enough_ you arse! She's not _my_Hermione!" He only missed because Sirius was ready for it.

Sirius laughed, even more at the fury glazed with confusion in the Quidditch fiend's eye. "Been a while since you've been this territorial about a Witch, Mate."

"I am not being territorial like some mutt! That's you and Moony's department remember?"

Holding up his fingers Sirius listed, "Case and point… First, you don't want any other Marauders around…because of my irresistible charm no doubt. Then you land a fist on your best mate for coming on to her, well trying to at least…"

"That's only two points." James had calmed down, claimed hold of his senses a bit, but Sirius could see the wheels turning in his head. Judging by the slight crease in his forehead, Sirius knew he was doing just what he had set out to do, get James thinking.

"Right. I'm still waiting to see the others. But that's more promise than you've shown in ages." James glowered at his slightly patronizing pat on the back. "And this has to be about her because there's no other reason for you to be so testy, is there?"

"I am not being testy." James frowned and arms hanging loose, ran a hand through his unruly black hair.

Gray eyes vigilant the whole time, Sirius pressed his luck. "If it's not about her, then you won't mind if I have a go?" Though James' eyes shot up with surprise there was no retort. Sirius was still trying to make sense of the things James had said the night before and his reactions now. "After all, it's not as though she were your bird. No one's claimed her yet so that makes her fair game."

"You know why, Padfoot…"

Sirius hesitated before plunging ahead. "Because of Lily, yeah?"

Once more James' dark brow lifted in surprise. "Lily?"

Sirius held his hands out as though _James_ had lost his memory instead of Hermione. "Ah, Lily Evans? The Witch you've been in love with since third year? Remember, that's why we were going to sneak into Hogsmead after lunch? We had our plan down to the last detail Prongs, how could you have forgotten about it?"

They had a big idea planned on how to get the two of them finally together. The grandest of all grand schemes, timed down to a fault.

Over the years their attempts had grown more refined. James had stopped declaring his love for her every time he saw her. And he finally realized after last term that catching his own snitch every chance he could to impress her wasn't working, neither was flirting with Sirius' favorite list of shallow bints, sabotaging all of her dates, or hexing her so only James could help her out of the fix. _Or_ all the romantic gestures of chocolates and flowers that exploded into mini fireworks displays that read, '_Lily and James Forever'_…

The Marauders were getting tired of their game of cat and mouse. Sirius had only enjoyed it this far because of Lily's reactions. And the fact it made _Snivellus_ positively green to see Lily even smiling in their direction. By this point he was secretly perturbed that Lily still rejected his best mate. James was his brother, closer in blood than anyone could ever be to him and seeing the crestfallen James Potter was depressing as puppies left out in the cold for Sirius.

And now after all these years James Potter merely stared at the silent doors across the wide hall where Remus and Peter slept and said, "Never mind about Lily right now."

Sirius gaped in shock. Granted, their encounter on the platform at the end of last term had been far less than savory. Lily's reaction to James' latest attempt had been embarrassing enough to make most blokes bury their heads in shame. Or at least make them bury those emerald eyes and bloody hair to a deserved grave of 'could-have-been'. Sirius' eyes widened. Was James finally giving up?

James' eyes narrowed down at him again. "This isn't about who she belongs to, mate. This is about Hermione. We don't know what Voldomort put her through before she came here. And for all we know she could already have a—a boyfriend. So no one is taking advantage of her, not while I'm here. Got it?"

Sirius had enough breeding to close the gap between his lips and nodded. "Sure thing Prongs."

"Brilliant!" James grinned suddenly, bad mood wiped from his face and he began to turn back to his room to change out of his Muggle sweats and rid himself all traces of his morning romp. With a devilish grin, "Oh, don't forget to purchase all the supplies we'll need for _the big one_! We're going to give Slytherin hell this year." He began to whistle off key as he shut his door.

Sirius stared incredulously at the ancient heavy oak with the sign that read '_JAMES'_on its plaque.

His decision was made.

It was time to bring the other Marauders into this affair…

* * *

She saw three boys, one short and two tall, cast quick glances her way before disappearing through what Hermione supposed to be the kitchens. The moment was so brief, as she stepped from the bottom most stair that led straight to the dining hall, Hermione barely recognized Sirius' wink. He blew her a kiss as they rounded the corner and she frowned, wondering why they were not joining the family for breakfast.

It had been a rather full day already, she mused, between her revelation with the dawn and flying with James. The last made her cheeks tinge pink.

Considering her dubious identity and situation she had enjoyed being pressed up against him a little too much. There was nothing _soft_about that boy except for his hair, of which she had the mental urge to constantly run her fingers through. Yet she couldn't help drinking her rescuer in. He made her feel safe when he was near her, as though nothing terrible could happen.

He strutted about as though he had nothing to fear and by the way he flew, just might conquer the world as far as Quidditch went.

She smiled softly to herself as she lingered in the dining hall entrance, felt the detailed carvings covering the walls as they changed shape at her touch, came to life.

She turned at the offbeat whistle preceding her boy, dressed hurriedly after his shower and bounding down the stair three at a time. The ends of his black hair stood on end, damp still and making the sudden appearance of his bright hazel eyes more affecting to her nerves. His smile was dashing and arrogant as much as it was genuine. "Good morning."

"Morning." Her smile did not quite reach her eyes, but it was more than enough to encourage James. At this point his grin looked as though it may split his face in two.

Shoving his hands in his jeans pockets he leaned in conspiratorially, black hair falling forward from its precarious position atop his head. "Hope Mum didn't give you too much trouble after we left."

Hermione smiled softly at the mention of Dorea Potter. It would seem she was a practiced liar because the elegant matron suspected nothing untoward of Hermione once she blamed her presence on the balcony on being unable to sleep. And Dorea's motherly instincts had overlain any questions as to why Hermione's thick bushy brown curls seemed more unruly than usual.

"That bad, eh?" James held out his arm and Hermione hesitated.

Her eyes turned the way the other Marauders had fled. "Why did Sirius and the boys not join us for breakfast?" She waited for James' response, and after wondering if he had spoken and she not heard, turned to ask again. Her eyes widened.

His eyes had followed the door to the kitchens with a dark glare, his arm had dropped, jaw clenched. "Did Sirius tell you what they were doing?"

"No, I just saw them in passing. But it looked like they were up to something." She wondered that his demeanor immediately relaxed and a slow grin was brightening his features. Hermione was beginning to understand it could be a dangerous thing to be on James Potter's bad side. When he caught her studying him his grin widened even more.

"Nothing to worry yourself over, love. Just Marauder business."

* * *

Breakfast was a simple affair of classic eggs, bacon, toast, pumpkin juice and fruits. Charlus Potter had his nose and brow furrowed deep in the "Daily Prophet" before Dorea reminded him of their guest.

His dark eyes twinkled in a way that made the gaping invisible hole in Hermione's chest ache for things she couldn't remember. And in answer to his wife's reprimand, he vanished the newspaper without a blink.

Her eyes widened as she felt the quick burst of magic.

"Charlus…" Dorea chided as she swiped her buttered knife against her toast. "No need to show off for Hermione. She is not fooled by any of your antics."

"Dorea I would never dream of it! You know I've always been a responsible Wizard love." Charlus winked Hermione's way. She smiled and then noticed James' infuriatingly wide grin across the table. Her eyes flickered back to the elder Mr. Potter and found Charlus Potter noticed _everything_. After chewing thoughtfully and downing it with pumpkin juice, "So, my dear. Dorea and I were wondering last evening about your plans for the winter holidays."

"Charlus!" Dorea seemed embarrassed for some reason and James choked on his pumpkin juice.

"Winter holidays?" Hermione's fingers slacked against her glass of pumpkin juice. Charlus saved it with the perfect timing of his well aimed wand.

Hermione's eyes widened at the look exchanged between husband and wife.

Dorea seemed to be pleading and Charlus merely amused. He leaned forward in his seat and nodded to her. "My wife here believes it is too soon to relay my invitation but I have never been a patient man." He pointed to his temple. "When an idea strikes me I have to carry it out, you see. Otherwise it is easier to forget and not all of us possess the advantage of a pensieve!"

"Dad, do you have to?" James was gripping the edge of the table, eyes behind his round thin rimmed spectacles anxious as they darted back and forth to Hermione.

Charlus chuckled. "Yes, I believe I do!" Slapping his hand against the antiquated table, and startling a nearby house elf judging by the tiny squeak sounding from the kitchens, "Hermione we were hoping you would continue to stay on with our family, no matter how tonight's dinner goes. I am sure you have found the lay of things around here easily enough with Jamie's help. Yet it is important you not only make yourself at home here but that you see yourself as one of the family. And every Christmas over winter holidays we throw a little dinner for our friends."

"_Dad_…" James had his face in his hands. Hermione could glimpse pink burning behind his cheeks. She grinned. Didn't sound too terrible yet. She couldn't understand what James and Dorea were so mortified over…until Charlus finished his invitation.

"And Jamie here has not yet found the proper escort since he came of age. It is an expected thing you see, for a Pureblood Wizard of our standing in society to follow certain traditions."

The rest of his words were a blur amid Hermione's thoughts, which were now consumed by words like _Pureblood, society, traditions, escort_…

"Load of bullocks…" James was grumbling to himself, still not looking up from his plate.

Charlus carried on as though he hadn't heard his son. "And seeing as you are already a part of this household we thought you might consider this. There are a few other events preceding this one that you may be required to participate in, but Dorea will have no trouble explaining matters to you."

Hermione's eyes widened, not quite grasping but gathering some idea of Charlus' proposal. "Pardon me sir, but are you sure that is wise? You hardly know me!"

His kind eyes told Hermione what his words could not. "I have eyes, my dear. It is a requirement that the parents or guardians approve of their child's escort and I very much approve of you. Besides, James has never brought any lass around before, well or half alive indeed. And I dare say he approves as well. Though he will deny it and label his father a mental nutcase later on, eh Jamie?"

Hermione bit her lip to rein her laughter and quell her nerves.

Dorea chuckled at the wild eyes James was giving both his parents. Dorea seemed to relive her own _gala_ days as she began to call them and though Hermione never agreed out loud, her lack of objections was taken as assent.

By the end of the hour James was _very_ eager to get them both out of there.

And yet, although she was not entirely sure what she had just agreed to nor consider whether it was wise to further entrench herself deeper in the lives of Wizards who knew nothing about her, Hermione could not remember enjoying a family so content with _being_ as the Potters.

* * *

**Review: Which family would be more fun to belong to...the Weasley's or the Potters (with an "adopted" Sirius) ?**


	9. I: a curious case

**Pre-HOGWARTS:**

**Chapter 9**

**a curious case**

* * *

His head was bent, hands in his pockets and glasses having fallen down the bridge of his nose the first few minutes of his _grand tour_.

Hermione locked her arms before her chest and waited, knowing he would speak whenever he had finished sorting his thoughts. Truthfully she rather enjoyed the silence and sensed it was going to be a rare gift in James Potter's presence.

Charlus and Dorea had gone for the afternoon to make a house call to the friend they had spoke of to Hermione the night before.

James had ducked his head after Charlus offered him one last knowing look and Hermione wondered what they were on about.

House elves made little noise when going about their chores in the Manor. And the ghosts James had mentioned did not seem to be troubled and kept to themselves. So for the rare blessed moment, they walked together side by side, no words between them.

Her eyes graced the high ceilings decorated by paintings and carvings that moved through scenes of the past. The walls were gothic paneled and covered in paintings and tapestries, hallways cornered by statues and hidden doors. The thick red carpet that ran down the center of each hall made their tread nearly silent. And Hermione understood, to the first time in her memory, how someone could look at a place and know it as _home_ in every sense of the word. For past all its gold trimmings and finery, there was a warmth Hermione felt here that transcended. She never wanted to leave.

"Sorry about that." James finally spoke, his voice deep and rough despite his youth. Something that Hermione was growing more curious about was the contrast between the Marauding boy that was James and the powerful Wizard buried beneath.

Startled she turned and looked up to meet his eyes, which were still trained to the carpet. "About what?"

With a slight frown he peeked a glance from beneath his lashes. "All that Gala nonsense. If I'd have known my dad was gonna con you into that I would have stopped him a lot sooner."

"Oh…"

He led them round a corner that opened into the main entrance, its grand staircase and hanging glass chandelier covered with everlasting candles tinkling a welcome, before saying, "You don't have to do it you know. I'll talk him out of it."

She paused, wondering still exactly what she was agreeing to. But the red tingeing James Potter's ears pink was too much to resist. And so softly she answered, "Don't."

His face belayed his shock. His eyes searched her face, as though to pry apart her innermost thoughts.

She smiled when they paused before a pair of high double doors hidden partly by the winding staircase and dancing shadows. "I won't mind at all, being your escort. Even though it is months away. What did he mean by winter holidays?" Indeed the thought had bothered her ever since Charlus mentioned it, along with a rush of warm feelings and echoes of laughter and smiles, impression of red hair and Christmas lights. Hermione had the annoying itch at the back of her mind that said she already knew the answer. She just couldn't remember it…

James took a step closer, and a slow grin etched its way past his embarrassment. "Why didn't you fall out of the sky sooner?" His voice was so low, tone so serious Hermione found herself laughing nervously.

"Ah—so what's this?" She gestured to the closed doors.

His eyes bored through her eyes a moment more before he turned and a knowing grin flushed his face. "This is the first stop of our grand tour. _Alohamora!_" He spoke and the double doors creaked loud and echoed from within. The room beyond was black as pitch and he filled the gap between the doors, eyes dancing. "Come on. Mum would have a fit if she knew I brought you here. But what mummy doesn't know…"

Hermione followed him inside against her better judgment. James had taken her hand tightly in his own and the doors shut behind them on their own. They walked on and on what seemed like forever, until their lack of sight heightened their other senses.

When they stopped Hermione bumped into James' back and she gasped lightly at the hard impact.

He chuckled low, hands grasping her upper arms, voice suddenly above her, close. "Easy love. No ghosts in here."

Though she couldn't see him, Hermione was very much aware of how close they were standing. Compared to the cool of the room, his heat filled the thin span of air between them thickly. The same strange energy she had felt each time she was around him burned underneath her skin.

She craned her neck, tried to discern his eyes in the pitch and felt his breath warm against her cheeks. Her pulse increased and his hands did not loosen from his hold of her.

Instead she heard a low whispered spell and then she was met by a pair of smoldering hazel eyes bent close to her.

Hermione gasped as the room was lit by a thousand candles or more, covering the chandeliers hanging from the gold inlaid ceiling, the walls covered with mirrors surrounded by opulent engravings, panels marked by lions and hunts dating back to medieval times and a floor enchanted to look like moonlit glass.

The light from below their feet lit up their features.

James' grin was even slower to come this time. And his words were softer than she had heard him speak before. "This room's had more parties in it than Hogwarts has had welcoming feasts."

At his mention of _Hogwarts_ a flood of knowledge filtered through Hermione's mind, images and pictures, particularly from a book called "_Hogwarts: A History_" all encompassing a familiarity Hermione knew was no coincidence.

His hand had taken hers. His arm was bringing her other hand to rest higher on his broad shoulder. "My family's famous for throwing parties, even though we're _blood traitors_ now. The Potters are one of the oldest Pureblood families in Britain, not much younger than the Blacks. Though we never were so flashy or large. Men in my family tend to marry late in life. Though I fully intend to break that tradition." A cheeky grin and a wink were enough to cause Hermione to blush. His hand wrapped tentatively round her slender waist.

_Does anything make him nervous?_

Hermione arched her eyebrow. "I thought that Purebloods despised blood traitors?" She wondered at her own knowledge, yet again a random book that decided to filter her thoughts.

Wryly James remarked, "Oh they may say that. But the truth is there aren't too many Pureblood families running around Britain anymore. Most have intermarried or died out. Good lot of them have had a bad habit of choosing the wrong side too…"

Hermione counted the first couple of sways before James began to lead her silently around the dance floor. Hermione wondered how she knew the waltz so well.

"So they can't afford to be picky like they used to be. Only the oldest families refuse to give in, like Sirius' devil of a mum. But the truth is we all came from the same place as muggle-borns once upon a time. And some day they're going to realize it." His eyes blazed for a moment, fingers tightening on her waist and Hermione found it difficult to focus on counting the steps.

Standing so close, leaning on James and feeling too comfortable in his arms she stiffened her posture and glanced around the room. "You're good at this."

"Another Pureblood perk."

"So you're an arrogant prat too?"

He scowled. "Told you not to believe a word anyone else said."

Frostily, she replied, "I didn't. No one told me. I figured that part for myself."

He snorted, "Liar. No one would say such awful things about _me_!"

She arched a full eyebrow and glanced up to find his eyes were dancing and grinning over her.

_He is enjoying this?_

Slyly she pursued, "But I didn't hear it from anyone. I learned it myself."

He pouted. "Hermione! How can I prove otherwise to you?"

She would be a fool to miss the dare in his tone and the curiosity and challenge in his eyes. Stepping on his foot on purpose she broke their dance and grinned. "For starters, show me something more impressive than this."

His grin told her she gave a worthy challenge.

* * *

Their afternoon was spent pouring over all the ins and outs of the Potter's ancestral home, with only one stop at the kitchen to sneak a bite.

James insisted on making her a sandwich without asking her what she liked.

Hermione learned she hated _Mayo, _whatever that was. Apparently not even she could remember.

James showed her a library so large Hermione was initially certain in her heart of hearts she had never seen anything its equal or so beautiful. Yet her pleasure of the staircase and floors of books, the couches and giant fireplace at the far wall of the room and miniature study began to fade. Tomes of the books caused even more fleeting memories to flash through her mind. Knowledge upon knowledge, more than anyone would need to know in a lifetime.

Hermione sensed she had once held a deep burning for this knowledge. But the constant flow of information rushing into the forefront of her thoughts was painful and James took them into a side passage the moment he noticed.

He led them down secret passages that interwove the network of rooms and some hidden rooms that could only be accessed through these passages.

There were dungeons down below where one of the house ghosts, George, still chained to a wall, told them of his endless journeys and battles with dragons and the like. When he mentioned "_that old cad Slytherin_" Hermione realized just how old this house was and wondered what it had been before the Potters inherited it.

There were rooms enchanted to calm and to inspire, walls on some covered with lifelike enchantments of far away places. James seemed to especially like the room he was currently leading her to, higher through hidden passage stairs. He drew out the build up of his most special of special places for Hermione in detail without giving anything away. He was a master storyteller when he put his mind to it, she mused.

Thus far she had been "unimpressed" with their adventures. Even in the room that was hidden to eyes inside, and only accessible from within the walls. Once it had belonged to a great lady, and there was tragedy nearly everywhere they explored. The mirror attached to her dresser had revealed the pale haired lady herself, alive in the mirror and eternally sad. Hermione had opened the lady's dresser drawer and found the same key worn in the lady's reflection and James himself tied the key round her neck. Neither of them saw the lady's unchanging sorrow in the mirror turn into a hopeful smile.

Hermione had realized after they passed the light of a window in the last room that they had already skipped lunch and it was drawing closer to sundown.

Had the day truly flown by so quickly?

James stopped before a door that's top ended below his shoulders and turned with a grin for Hermione. His eyebrows wagged, "Do you dare to open it yourself?"

Rolling her eyes Hermione stepped confidently forward. They were at that particular secret passage's end, with little space between them.

Hermione brushed against James, tensing at the jolt of energy that buzzed beneath her skin and tried her hand at the knob. It did not budge. Huffing a sigh she steeled herself and tried again.

James was laughing silently and his eyes still danced even after she turned a baleful glare his way. "What?"

He shook his head, mouth tilting and tugging at his half grin. "Nothing."

She stilled and turned to face him, eyes narrowed. "You _knew_ this door wouldn't open didn't you?" She poked him firmly in the chest.

He rubbed the offended pectoral, horror in his eyes. "You would think that _I_ would lie to _you_? Never on my honor my lady!" When he tried to bow onto one knee, hand stretching out wide he knocked against a beam that sent a cloud of dust and an angry doxy tumbling between them and pinching its fury.

Hermione shrieked, "James Potter you stupid _git_!"

He was laughing harder now, ignoring the angered doxy and sending it away with a silent swish of his wand. He sank to the floor when she began to beat at his chest in her wrath. He held his hands up. "No! Please! Have mercy! Abuse! No! No more! I'll do anything you ask!" Each successive plea turned his features more comical and the whole situation more ridiculously difficult to stay angry.

Hermione groaned with exasperation and turned to the door to try her hands and then beat her fists on the offending wood. "Help! Help! Get me out of this bloody passage! I'm trapped with an arse who thinks he's a comedian!" The last she turned to shout at him, fists on her hips and unwittingly, looking gorgeous at the end of his lit wand.

James grinned, tears easing the sting of his eyes and sighed loudly, holding a hand to her. "Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are angry, love?"

Her eyes narrowed at his hand. "What is that?"

He checked his hand both sides. "I believe it is called a hand. A very useful appendage I'd like to keep actually."

She leaned over him, one eyebrow perfectly arched. "Want to keep your favorite appendage?"

His eyes widened and it was difficult to keep his grin down in the face of her wonderful fury. "Very much so, yes."

"Then **open-the bloody-door**!" She did not like that he seemed unphased by her temper, or that it excited rather than mollified him. She crossed her arms over her chest, ignored the brush of his arm against hers as he squeezed round her and waved his wand over the antiquated brass knob.

Slipping into a dimly lit room she waited, mouth a stubborn line. She was still angry with him and unwilling to budge. Until he stuck an open hand through the door and beckoned her to follow.

She was unprepared for the sight that greeted her.

The room was heavy with enchantments, covered in slowly changing scenes that varied from sunset, the brilliance of never ending stars, sunrise and back again. The heavens covered the room, from places the floor was uncovered, the walls and the ceiling. The ceiling she noted held a luminous moon now and the large room the stars.

The room was large, one of the family rooms and a large bed and wardrobe and other personal items cluttered two corners. The rest had cushions and papers and inkwells scattered before an unlit fireplace and a cluster of candles. The floor to ceiling window was draped with dark red curtains and Hermione walked round to stare.

Of all the rooms James had shown her this one felt the most of home, and the most personal.

Her eyes widened as she caught the Nimbus propped beside the window.

_This was his room…_

The stars swirled and spun and then a building sunrise showed Hermione more colors than should have existed and tears welled in her eyes.

She didn't deserve this, _any_ of this. She knew her reasoning was irrational because she couldn't _remember_ why she didn't deserve it.

"Hermione?" James' voice was gentle, hesitant.

She turned round and once more found him much closer than she had anticipated. Her chest brushed against his in a rush of wildfire that raged down below, spread through to her fingertips and made her lift her eyes to meet his.

The dawning light was reflecting off his spectacles and this close Hermione realized his eyes weren't simply a muddled hazel. They were a darkly stained green, heavily flecked with dark amber. And at this moment, the green burned brightest.

His amused grin had changed into something far more dangerous. Dangerous because it was causing her breath to fall shorter the closer he leaned toward her. His fists though she could not see them were clenching and unclenching while his chest heaved slightly for control.

She wondered a moment if he was angry with her, or at _them_, the ones who nearly killed her, for seeing tears in her eyes. She found herself wondering how quickly she could feel she knew a complete stranger better than herself.

She wondered how she knew in her heart of hearts that this was _wrong_, that somehow this wasn't the way things were supposed to be. That something had changed, and that somehow, it all had to do with _her_… "James?" She sounded far weaker than she had intended. "This is…" Emerald amber flecked eyes flashed as he quickly inhaled and she whispered, "—it's beautiful…" She turned her head to watch the walls fading gradually into sunset. "It makes me think of flying…"

"That's the idea." His voice was rougher now, husky and when Hermione met his eyes again she was startled by the open wonder and desire in them now.

"Your room?" She hated the faint trembling of her voice.

_Maybe he didn't notice?_

"Yeah. Like what you see?" A tilted half grin gave him a mischievous edge. His hand had found one of hers and was tracing its contours slowly.

_He noticed…_

"Ah…yeah. It's b-breathtaking…" This was not how she had expected their tour to end.

Was he leaning closer?

Panic welled up inside of her. Warnings blazing like firecrackers in her head shouted that he didn't really know her. That _she_ didn't know herself!

"**_JAMES M. POTTER_**_!_" Dorea's voice carried through the house tenfold what a normal shout would have done.

"_Shit_…" James cursed under his breath, bowing his head low. "I forgot about dinner." His hand was still lightly tracing hers. That enough was making it difficult for Hermione to bring enough oxygen to her brain. His head lifted suddenly, grin ready and fingers tightening on her palm. "Come on. Time for you to meet the Professor."

"Who?" She managed as he dragged her out the door and out of his spell.

* * *

**Review: The winner of Weasley VS Potter is near unanimously Potter! (Having Sirius Black in the mix does weigh in a bit ;) **

**Guess who's coming to dinner? Though it should be fairly obvious...**

**Hope you all enjoyed the building "heat" of this chapter ;)**


	10. I: guests of the potters

**A/N: At last we've come to dinner! **

* * *

**Part 1: PRE-HOGWARTS**

**Chapter 10**

**guests of the potters**

* * *

Everlasting candles dripped in clusters throughout the dining hall. The dim golden light was warm and almost comforting rather than ominous. Gold brought out the tapestry-decked walls from candelabras in each corner. And they reflected upon the gleaming ancient oak table, polished to a mirror's sheen.

And in the great hearth, high as her topmost stray curl, stewed a crackling fire.

"-cannot wait this time!"

Voices echoed off the walls, bounced against the high shadowed ceiling and reached Hermione and James' ears in the adjoining hall.

"-must act **_now_**!"

"Charlus, please…"

Hermione's fingers clenched the golden robes Dorea Potter had lent her, trying to quell her nerves. Why should she be afraid? It was only a family dinner guest!

Though she had known the Potter's only a day, Hermione trusted them in the way one trusts what they've always known.

Her mind now seemed sectioned off with an impenetrable opaque wall that at times decided to reveal the other side. Yet it was made of four high walls, and inside of the walls was the small world Hermione woke up to days before.

As she could remember so little it was _this_ house, _these_ people who were her world now. Whatever life she had lived before was made forfeit. She felt the pang of loss when thinking about the past she could not recall. Moreover she felt fear for the past she was not so afraid of forgetting. Not with such a large warm hand wrapped firmly round hers.

When James had rushed down comically the many steps, toting her uncoordinated feet along, he had offered little. Only that whoever it was Charlus invited to meet her was a _very_ old family friend.

So there was no reason to be afraid, right?

_Course not…he's only supposed to dig into my brain and learn my deepest darkest secrets… of which I can remember _**_nothing_**_._

Her mouth fell a flat line.

_Nothing to worry about _**_at all_**_._

Would she even want to remember if this Legillimens could knock down the walls round her mind? Hermione felt a stranger to the peace and kindness of the Potters' lives. From the moment she had stumbled into their lawn a bloody mess, to waking up after the dark curse was lifted Hermione had been plagued by overwhelming fear and sorrow so that even now she could not fully shake the sense of urgency in her steps. What bothered her was she was fairly certain she had never tended towards melancholy behavior before. And she desperately hoped the walls round her mind would remain intact so she _could_ forget whatever phantoms haunted her.

She glanced up at the mop of black hair high above her with a soft grin. James seemed to have developed a sixth sense for these moods of hers. More than once today he had done everything in his power to make her smile or laugh. Just as often he received a well-deserved glare instead.

He turned, sensing her gaze. Immediately his impossible grin cracked his face in two upon catching her stare and to her horror he winked conspiratorially.

With a roll of her eyes she barely managed a half serious glare his direction before straining back to the looming doorway. Despite her distracted glare, or perhaps because of it, he leaned in close to her ear. She tensed as his nose brushed against her curls and could have sworn his grip tightened round her hand. His tone was laughing, "Why so peaky, love? You look like you just swallowed a boggart! It's only Uncle Albus!"

Her eyes flickered to his, something strange stirred inside her chest. It was a new sensation, something Hermione had begun to associate with James whenever he was near. She frowned and did not catch as James' teasing eyes creased slightly with worry.

Yet the moment was broken and their feet had at last carried them to the end of their journey.

As they came down the length of the dining table Hermione found herself anxiously searching for the face of their mysterious dinner guest. Instead she was struck first by the opulent yet somehow simple beauty of their world. And then how beautiful Charlus and Dorea Potter truly were, not for their fine robes or lovely features, but something deeper. An auburn, gray-streaked head was turned to the eldest Potter, his pointed blue hat perched like a cap atop his long mane and covered with glowing crescent moons.

Charlus' face was creased with heavy lines at the moment, for the first time giving Hermione an idea of how much older he truly was. "Albus, the attack on the Wentworth's cannot be ignored by the Ministry forever. The poor girl is alone without family now and the Order _must_—."

Dorea's soft blue eyes found them first, her hand immediately resting over her husband's. "My dear, they've arrived."

Charlus' worry lines faded the instant his eyes found Hermione's. "Ah! Brilliant! Come, come children!" A very James-like grin split his face and he turned excitedly to their guest. "Hermione, you must meet a very dear friend of mine! Albus, here is our poor young friend we told you about!"

Hermione bit her lower lip while lifting her chin and tried to feel as confident as she wished she felt. Her eyes flickered to find Dorea watching her with mixed amusement and warmth. Her hand fell limp in James', embarrassed when his mum's sapphire eyes _did_ glance at the space between them.

The mysterious Wizard beneath the pointy hat was sipping from a crystal glass filled with a dark amber liquid. And Hermione could not shake the overwhelming deja-vu that had swept over and stolen her senses. Still he had not turned at their arrival though she caught a glimpse of spectacles and beard when she dared a glance.

Keeping her head down she allowed James to take her arm and seat her beside his mother. He grinned triumphantly at them all the moment he had finished settling her to the table. "See! Told you I'd get us here on time mummy dearest."

Dorea's dark brow rose at her sons' declaration. "Yes though I wonder how punctual you would have been without me howling throughout the house to remind you dear."

A warm chuckle escaped from beneath the pointed hat.

Charlus' grin matched his sons' and Hermione blushed when his brown eyes met hers. "Ah but with the company of such a lady how could he be any less…ah…distracted, my love? I dare say if I were a young man…"

Dorea sniffed, "I doubt your memory goes back that far my dear."

"Indeed! Were we ever _young_, Charlus?" the pointed hat enquired.

"Well, some of us have aged better than others Albus!" and both James and Charlus erupted into equally loud guffaws. James nearly tripped into his chair beside their dinner guest across from Hermione. Even the ever-prim Dorea was trying to hide her amusement. Charlus beamed at his wife who he obviously found just as lovely as the day they met and discreetly offered a teasing wink to Hermione.

She bit her lip, staring at her empty place setting. Would she ever laugh with them at their jokes? Even if she couldn't remember the horrors locked in her mind, would they haunt her the rest of her days?

She could feel the familiar heat of James' gaze then and hesitantly met it. Did he know how much she wanted to crawl into this place in his life and his world and never escape it? Candlelight basked his face in a way Hermione could not help comparing to his room's enchanted sunset, could not help remembering how it had covered them both…

"Hermione?" Charlus' voice was amused yet kind and Hermione wondered how long he had been trying to catch her attention.

Startled she found herself pulled unwittingly into a pair of clear twinkling blue eyes behind half moon spectacles. Her mind fell blank.

"Hermione, this is Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts and a very old friend of our family. He has been quite anxious to meet you my dear."

_Hogwarts…_ the very name filled her memory with images of an endless stream of words and pages.

_Hogwarts, A History…_ the images came faster with a dull roar until her hands gripped the edge of the oak table, until her vision spotted with white lights and the tingle of untamed magic…

Suddenly as it came, the knowledge was tucked away again; her mind blank and no one else seemed to have noticed except for Albus Dumbledore. The twinkle to his eyes had faded somewhat, replaced with a concerned frown.

Charlus was still introducing them, she realized. "-and James has been quite taken with her, though we found little surprise there!"

"Dad!" James groaned as though his life were over.

Albus' lips quirked into a grin the twinkle to his periwinkle blues returned.

_Periwinkle_…

"What ho? My dear boy you do much better to be forthcoming with your feelings rather than dance about in the dark!"

"Charlus…" Dorea gently intoned.

James huffed a sigh. "Dad the whole _forthcoming_ act didn't seem to work so well the last time. In fact it landed in my face…every day! You can ask Uncle Albus! And you're making Hermione blush! She's only been with us half a bloody fortnight!"

"_Language_, James!" Dorea icily and effectively cut her sons' growing tirade.

Albus Dumbledore only seemed to smile wider between sips of his decanter.

Hermione's mouth parted with surprise when he cast an amused glance at her and winked.

Charlus waved his sons' protests away, noticing the silence of his old friend and leaning on his elbow to commiserate. "Ah, the young! They waste so much precious time, do they not, Albus? Why if I had it over again…"

"You'd what?" Dorea smiled sweetly up at her husband. And whatever message passed from her sapphire eyes seemed to mollify Mr. Potter for now.

Albus spoke at last, inclining his decanter from beneath his half-moon spectacles. "It is indeed a pleasure to meet you Hermione. I believe you have already come to know quite a bit of the Potters during your brief stay?"

Hermione pursed her lips, unable to stop her grin and more than grasping his full meaning.

His eyes twinkled merrily as the patterns of his outer robe and hat.

"Indeed she has!" Charlus began with a chuckle. "And she will know far more than she'd ever care to the longer she stays on I dare say."

"Don't you think we've postponed dinner long enough, dear?" Dorea offered.

"Of course! Of course!" Charlus and James both seemed to perk up at this. With a clap of his hands their meals suddenly appeared steaming beneath their noses.

Hermione's eyes widened with surprise and rose to find the Potter's laughing over James' enthusiasm for the roast lamb.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore watched the scared young witch with burdened eyes and listened half-heartedly to the conversation between his old friends between bites of mutton. And tried not to dwell on the overwhelming power that pulsated from her slight form. The Potters were not a weak magical family by any means. James was growing at such a rate that Albus knew one day soon he would surpass even Charlus.

Yet _this_ Witch was something apart, her magical signature unlike anything he had encountered the long years of his life. Only once before had he felt something akin to this sort of raw power from a Wizard or Witch, and Ariana was _dead_…

"Albus?" Charlus was speaking to him yet his brow furrowed deeper, the image of his timid sister filling to life in his mind without pause.

"My dear, you know how many things are on our guest's mind. Leave him be…" Dorea's smooth words were answered by a snort from her husband.

Under his breath Albus faintly heard, "-weight of the world…"

James laughed with his mouth full, and asked, "Uncle Albus, you alright? Look like you've seen your own grave mate."

"James!" Dorea reprimanded.

"Mum, don't worry! I call him Professor Dumbledore at school. Let me off at least one more week!"

Dorea sighed.

Albus heard all of this, yet his mind was searching, rifting, pulling the pieces of her puzzle together. There were days when it did feel as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, ever since the day a basilisk was unleashed at Hogwarts and his nightmares began…

Yet for the first time in the last few torturous weeks of preparing and waiting for Tom's weaknesses to show and the war officially begin, Albus Dumbledore's mind was the farthest away from that matter as it could possibly be.

He had peeked inside her mind already once before and been startled by the sudden contrast of emptiness and flux of _knowledge._ She kept her eyes on her plate. She could feel him watching her, he knew.

Albus did not peek inside her mind again. He would wait until later on, when she was ready for it.

As though his thoughts invited, her dark eyes drew to his boldly then.

His breath caught in his throat at how…_familiar_…she suddenly seemed.

* * *

Hermione barely listened as the Potters recalled several stories concerning their beloved dinner guest. The amount of respect they held for Albus Dumbledore was very great indeed. Charlus had to be reigned in by Dorea on a few occasions while relaying several school day pranks he and Albus had instigated, particularly one involving applying a sticking charm to every seat in the dining hall of Hogwarts, including the Headmaster's. It was James who called the two of them "the first Marauders".

Even Dorea had laughed at the memory of Albus teaching James how to cast his first spells and ride his first broom. It was this way that Hermione learned the pointed hat was secretly James' godfather.

"Never told anyone outside the family you know…" Charlus explained to her over a bowl of old fashioned iced cream. "This old Warlock has as many titles and heroics as he does names!"

And yet the humorous, light hearted Wizard Hermione heard about in their stories had vacated dinner this night. Instead the Professor seemed to be just as soft spoken and troubled as Hermione felt.

If the Potters took note of their friend's odd behavior they made no mention.

James tried to catch her eye endlessly throughout dinner. Hermione could barely meet those knowing hazel orbs any more than she could those of the periwinkle blue Professor's opposite her. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry of exasperation when he began to make quick faces at her. Until Dorea caught him in the act and threatened to hex those expressions to his face permanently.

Albus Dumbledore laughed.

Charlus clapped his hands and the remnants of their meal disappeared entirely. He began to stand, shaking out his robes and stiff joints. "Well old boy, I'd say it high time we moved to the cave, wouldn't you?"

"Indeed…" Albus stood, straightening his hat and seeming even more lost in thought than before.

When Hermione looked to James with wide eyes he winked. "Dad means his man cave."

Dorea rolled her eyes and offered Hermione a soft smile as they gathered. "I allowed Charlus _one_ room in the manor to do with as he wished. Could you imagine my letting him take full reign of the entire house? You'll know what I mean when you see darling." She linked arms with the younger Witch, and her son pouted at being left to walk without Hermione's free hand.

Charlus was whispering in a low voice with Albus, words escaping now and again like _war, Tom, the Order,_and _hope_. The elder Potter led them was seemed to be straight into the wall of the dining hall. Hermione's eyes widened when none of the rest of their party hesitated to walk on. She shut her eyes, preparing for the hard impact, only to feel herself being turned at the last second.

James snickered behind her. "Steady on, love. Open your eyes!"

The wall was disillusioned Hermione found, and though the wall appeared unbroken, they had stepped into a small narrow hall. Charlus Potter held open a high wooden door for the pointed hat. The room glowed warm and inviting past the dark hall and lit Charlus' mischievous wrinkled face. "Come on! Come in if you so dare!"

Dorea snorted above Hermione's head and she glanced up at the taller silver haired woman. Despite her brass, Dorea's sapphire eyes glowed with mirth.

Hermione understood exactly what Dorea had meant about Charlus' man cave. It was complete with dark leather furnishing and the heads of hunted beasts, several which were unknown to the non-magical community. There was a table for billiards and board for throwing darts, and off to the side a spacious mini bar.

What Hermione was surprised by was that the walls actually looked like they had literally stepped into a cave, though the walls rippled and shifted at times to depict different scenes from around the world.

Hermione's fingers brushed against the back of a leather arm chair and smiled when her nose caught traces of cigars in the air.

"The Governor and I used to hunt together. Something I tried to get Jamie here into but never quite took to. Seemed to be more interested in other pursuits like that sodding broom of his. Took too much after his mum I suppose!" Charlus was explaining, pointing at things excitedly. He mock threw a long feather tagged spear Hermione's way.

She yelped and ducked behind Dorea's billowing satin robes and the matron planted her fists against her hips. "Charlus! Do you really want to frighten the poor girl to death? Honestly!"

Albus chuckled from his place before the fire. He had swept his robed back beneath his hands clasped behind his back.

James suddenly thrust a tribal shield before the three of them. "Try and spear us if you dare!"

Charlus' eyes gleamed and he hefted the spear more firmly. "Don't mind if I do!"

"Charlus! James!" Both Wizards flinched at Dorea's biting tone, looked at one another and passed equally amused grins before tossing the weaponry aside. James wagged his eyebrows at Hermione as he walked past and she barely caught the swish of his wand.

Narrowing her eyes she wondered what he had cast…

Charlus was still laughing at his wife's expression. "Would have loved to see the Govorner's face at that one! How he would have howled to see us toying with his prized collection! Isn't that true Albus?"

Albus' periwinkle blue eyes only twinkled in the firelight. His grin was hidden partly by his long trailing beard.

Hermione shouted then as she began to feel random itches all over her bum.

Dorea turned about and exclaimed over James' muffled guffaw. "What in _sweet Nimue_…Hermione are you all right?"

Hermione rubbed her bum furiously, turning her best death glare the way of the culprit. "No fair! I don't even have a wand yet!"

James' laughter burst into the tense man cave. Charlus hid his laughter barely behind his hand.

Dorea thrust a finger James' way. "James M. Potter you had _better_ fix this **now**!"

Charlus and Albus spoke before the fire. Albus laughed at Charlus' animated hand gestures and shook his head.

James was still shaking with laughter, tears leaking from his eyes as he approached Hermione. He stilled her hands by taking them in his and when she still refused to meet his eye he leaned forward, closer.

Hermione panicked.

_What is he doing?_

The moment she chanced a glance she found her eyes invariably pulled and glued to his.

_Amber and emerald, like the golden sunset over a spring meadow…_

Laughter abated for now, his grin widened when she held her breath and he whispered the spell, "_Finite_."

"James I dearly hope you do not treat all the girls at school in such a ghastly manner! Albus I do not know how you put up with my fiend of a son!" Dorea threw up her hands and smiled fondly at their joined hands.

Albus chuckled. "Oh I assure you Dorea, I keep four eyes on your boy at all times. Or perhaps it is six eyes?" He scratched his beard.

"Albus, I remember the Governor's opinion of our best prank that year. Though you were getting far too serious about school the last term…"

"We _were_ due to graduate if you would remember." Albus looked over the rim of his half-moon spectacles.

Hermione had successfully pulled at least one hand from James' grasp and was attempting to join their elders. "Which Governor did you know?"

Charlus' eyes widened a moment before he let out an abrupt laugh. "Oh my dear! Forgive me! That was an old term lads of our day called their fathers to trouble them. Believe me, my old man did not care much for it. You should have heard what Albus here called his!"

Albus coughed then and began to adjust his robes, and for a moment his eyes caught Hermione's and she felt the breath flee her lungs and knew the moment she was dreading had at last come. The Headmaster turned, his entire demeanor changing from bemused to heavy hearted in a matter of seconds. "If you would forgive me, Charlus, Dorea, James, I believe it is time."

Charlus' smile faded and he wrung his hands together glancing back from his old friend to Hermione. "Ah, yes, of course…Hermione?"

James squeezed her hand and Hermione realized she was gripping his for dear life.

Albus smiled and took a seat in the high backed arm chair nearest him. He gestured to the nearby seat across. "Hermione? My dear if you wouldn't mind. It is a pity I forgot to bring any lemon drops…I find they help tremendously one's constitution."

Hermione squeezed James' hand one last time before breaking free of his grip and stepping forward. With a steady glance Charlus' direction she breathed. "I'm ready."

Charlus was ushering the rest of his family to another door hidden in shadow. "We will be in the parlor should you have need of us."

Albus nodded and smiled though his eyes never left Hermione's.

She gripped the arms of her chair. "You're leaving?"

Dorea and James were speaking in furtive hushed tones. Charlus glanced at her apologetically. "Forgive me my dear, but Albus will need as few distractions as possible if he is going to break through what the healers could not."

As they disappeared through a suddenly open and lit doorway Albus' comforting lilting voice further pulled her from the Potter's comfort. "Hermione I assure you I am only here to help you. Should you let me, I would like to look inside your mind. But I will need you to clear things up a bit. Try and think back from this moment until the first thing you remember and we will go from there."

Hermione's eyes were trapped by his and with his words she felt her mind slipping away, her vision blurring slightly…

* * *

Her mind was like standing at the center of an endless black cave with only one small candle to illuminate its surroundings. And within that light Albus saw many things, each small memory clear and life like as they were the only things Hermione knew and could cling to.

He saw the Potters and young Sirius through her eyes. He grinned faintly to see himself through her eyes. _Does that blue clash with the emerald?_ Tossing his whimsical tendencies aside, the aged Wizard found the memories more chopped and sharp, the pain all to fresh and real. She was barely aware during the rigorous hours of healing it took to mend her wounds and break the dark curse.

And before this she was running, stumbling unknowingly towards the Potters' house wards, climbing up the hill from Godric's Hollow. Her thoughts were sporatic, and a pain began to form at his temples the longer he tried to break through them.

___**She had to find someone…**_

___**Darkness…**_

___**Pain…**_

Hermione was groaning, trembling with the weight of power pulsing in the room.

Albus threw everything into piercing through the wall of magical energy surrounding her mind. Yet with each attempt the wall pushed back harder and harder…

Grunting beneath the mental weight his eyes widened as the wall began to surround him too, and then there were only words blurred and focusing…

_'____Godric's Hollow- For over a thousand years it has been home to notable wizards and witches…_

_…__most famous as the birthplace of Hogwarts founder Godric Gryffindor…_

_Hogwarts, a History- Built by the four founding Wizards and Witches, most powerful of their time…_

_…__Godric Gryffindor…_

_…__more renowned since those times for the site of Voldemort's first…_

_Ignotus Peverell, one of the three brothers…Deathly Hallows.._

_…__Dumbledore family…Kendra and Ariana both perished…'_

Dumbledore gasped. He was being thrown, drowned and pulled out of the depths as quickly as he had dove in… And he quickly realized he was on his knees, head in his hands with Hermione curled onto the fireplace rug as well.

Tears fell from her eyes. The knowledge would not stop. She groaned, "Please! M-**make** it **stop**!"

It took every ounce of a century of honed in magical control for Albus Dumbledore to pull his mind from the young Witch's. He shut his eyes and calmly as he could, returned to his chair while rubbing his aching temples. As of yet he could not begin to think of everything he had just seen. What was even more disturbing was the knowledge in her mind he had seen. Something powerful had latched itself to her mind, something that would not let her mind go now that it had her.

He lifted his gaze with new eyes for the troubling young Witch and felt something akin to the moment he had faced an equally young Wizard with an insatiable appetite for dark magic. She needed to be monitored and protected, from others as well as herself. A very old familiar pain made its presence known in his heart for the second time since meeting Hermione.

_He saw large pale blue eyes devoid of life, thick flaxen hair surrounding a heart-shaped sallow face…_

"Professor…" She began weakly, seeming to have somehow found her wits and reclaimed her chair. His eyes widened slightly to see her recovery so thorough. The only tell tale was the fear masked by fierce determination in her dark eyes. "What just happened? I saw everything you saw. What does it mean?"

With a heavy sigh and a heavy heart he pondered on how to begin. What should he tell her? And what of his own suspicions? The secret hope fluttering in his chest from the moment she had walked through the dining hall doors and before his eyes.

_Too many coincidences…too many signs…_

"Professor?" Stronger this time, her brow had furrowed…

_Yes! So similar!_

"Professor why are you smiling? Whatever this curse did to my mind it has me tied just as tightly as ever. I don't see any way out of this but I would appreciate you providing me with some answers!"

His plan was sound. It was impulsive and daring to attempt to fool. Yet it would bring her protection and allow him to keep an even closer eye…and perhaps in time answer some of his own questions.

"Well?" Tilting her jaw her eyes gleamed with desperation and reflected the fire's flames.

Fingers lacing together over his long beard he began, "My dear, I am terribly sorry to tell you that your own fears are true. Your mind has been locked away, so to speak, and I am uncertain if either your efforts or mine will ever free it again."

"What?!" She interrupted, "You mean you're just giving up?"

Brow quirked, "I thought you preferred to be kept in the dark? Were those not your thoughts earlier this morning? So much knowledge in a mind so young is wondrous and terrible indeed. Are you so certain you wish to know what other ghosts haunt your hidden mind?"

Her thick, long mane of curls bounced with each turn of her head. He saw the gleam of tears in the flash of her turned eyes.

_Was this too much? Was I too hard on her?_

He wondered for a moment whether he had overestimated the Witch. Perhaps she was merely a victim of whatever strange magic had captured her. He was pleasantly surprised when she next met his gaze, for the full force of her fiery spirit shone with brilliance.

"You're right. I didn't want to know. But I have to find out why I came here half alive and with glass in my skin."

"What have you deduced so far?" His eyes were smiling, challenging.

"I must have apparated from somewhere else. I was soaked through and hit with a very dark curse without a wand. And I saw the Daily Prophet this morning. I know there's a war going on out there. I can only suppose I'm part of it somehow." She could not hide her uncertainty at the last. Perhaps it would make her only more willing to agree to him.

"Hermione, you have fears you were on the wrong side. I can understand why you would be afraid to show yourself to the rest of the world just yet. But your memory will not return. And you cannot hide with the Potters forever. Especially when whoever was hunting you finds you have survived."

"I can't stay…" Her words held such grave finality to them he wished he could disagree with her.

Shaking his head he offered her the most honest smile he could in such circumstances. "No. But I would like to present to you an alternative, if you are willing." The most fleeting of frowns marred her features before she set her chin and nodded. "I am sure you have come to the conclusion I hold some high connections in our world." He chuckled to himself. _High indeed…_ "I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Are you familiar with this school?"

Her eyes shut tightly, with the sudden rush of information no doubt. At last she opened her eyes with a wry grin.

"I was hoping that you would join me there as a seventh year student. Your friends, James and the boys will also be joining us in less than a fortnight and I am certain I can persuade them to make sure you are well accommodated for your stay." He winked and Hermione blushed. "I thought perhaps you would like to study with the seventh years because you appear to be around that age. Anything less I fear would bore a mind such as yours." She seemed to doubt him, yet Albus had never been more certain of anything. "I already discussed the matter with Charlus and Dorea and they have consented to provide you with everything you will need."

Her eyes widened. "Oh no! Please don't let them! They've already done so much for me! I couldn't dare ask…"

He held his hands up with a chuckle. "You underestimate their compassion my dear. But I have also decided that I should like to further my proposal. While I would encourage you to stay on with the Potters as long as you see fit, I would like to officially claim you as my ward, Hermione. And if you like, to give you my name. I shall send the details of your back story by owl later in the week. But if it is alright with you I should like to work the details with the Ministry and make this official!" He couldn't contain his delight, though he could see the wheels of her mind working through her gaping mouth. He was prepared for the usual declarations of lunacy and such. Most people had never understood his methods. He himself rarely did.

What he was unprepared for were her tears.

"Well my dear, what is your answer?"

She laughed, though it sounded more a sob than joyful. Shaking her head in wonder she held out her upturned palms. "How can you offer so much to someone like me? Forgive me Professor, but you don't know me at all! Why…how…?" She bit her lip, shaking her head wordlessly.

Albus smiled and stood. She did the same. He held open his arms, wondering if she would think it strange to hug someone she hardly knew? Hermione ran into his arms and clung tight.

* * *

**A/N: The information piece in this chapter was taken from the Harry Potter Lexicon site! Great stuff there!**

**Review: If ye like roast mutton! lol...after having it numerous times I'm still not sure what I think of it...Okay, how about: Review if you want a "man cave" ;)**


	11. I: interloping diagonally

**A/N: Sorry about the mix up with Frozen dawn lol Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

**Part 1: PRE-HOGWARTS**

**Chapter 11**

**interloping diagonally**

* * *

"Don't look over there! Look at me Tom! All right mate? This is very important!"

"Course! No worries Mr. Black! Tom is a man of his word!"

"And the word is?" He turned his eye from pleasant to dangerous with the flick of a wand.

Tom gulped visibly, large eyes darting nervously to the other occupied patrons. "Firewhiskey, on-on the house…sir!"

Sirius eased back then, "Excellent! I'll be sure to get you that escort after hours." clapping him firmly on the back. And then, loudly enough for the patrons to hear he winked conspiratorially to Tom, "Thank you ever so much for delivering my message! I am certain Mum will be pleased to know I'm alive and well!"

"Right sir, right you are!" Tom nodded enthusiastically and a few half inebriated, down-on-their-luck Wizards offered amused glances.

Sirius pointed to his temple. "Remember the word for me, will you Tom?"

Tom twisted his rag between his hands. "Right sir, right of course!" He backed, offering his palm up in acquiescence with his typically crooked gap toothed grin.

Sirius ignored the death glares burning from a few distant Black cousins gathered at the opposite end of the Leaky Cauldron.

In other circumstances, Sirius Black might have taken pride in shoving his Mother's abandonment of her oldest son in his cousins' faces. No matter how many times Mummy P warned him to not take his family's connections to Voldemort lightly, Sirius had never worried for his own skin. The only time he felt fear was when those he loved were threatened. While he frequently loved several women in one week, he loved the Marauders and the Potters with an unwavering devotion akin to his Animagus nature. And the war hadn't become too real for him just yet. Perhaps it didn't occur to him then that his own foolishness might endanger those he loved. But for now he was still seventeen _damn it_, uncommonly handsome and commonly naïve to his own mortality.

So he felt no qualms about slipping his wand from his sleeve and casually sending a softly whispered hex on his cousin's lovely black curls. Without turning he snickered and slipped into the booth opposite two of his best friends. Glancing through the heavy sack containing their year's supplies of tricks courtesy "Gambol and Japes" and finding everything present and accounted for he eased back into his seat and crossed his arms behind his head.

The day would have been perfect if only Prongs had been a part of it. They had enough supplies to '_give Slytherin hell_' as was James and Sirius' mutual wish. There had been the one annoying run in with Snivellus at the crux of Knockturn Alley and Gringotts. Sirius had made a point to show his heftier sack of galleons and remind the rat bastard once again that the good side always lucked out beside the bad. It wasn't exactly his fault the Slytherins had decided to teach them a lesson after. Sirius would rather face a thousand hexing wars than give in to Slytherin! And Snivellus had had the word _rat_ written on his crooked nose the first moment Sirius bumped into him.

Peter was still examining the crystalline cube he had yet to understand the mechanics of. But Remus' eyes had moved from his empty plate and narrowed down at his friend the moment he sat across from them, and his keen eyes and ears took in the commotion reining the other end of the pub. With a light shake of his head he glared at Sirius.

"What?" Sirius challenged.

Remus continued to shake his head. "You never learn do you?"

"Learn what?" He forced his best, well-practiced look of innocent surprise. It worked every time like a charmer, at least on Minnie and Mummy P.

"Oi! Sirius! Did you get the drinks yet or what?" Peter's slightly watery eyes narrowed in on him. His fingers slipped on the cube and it knocked against the table with quick bell like clings. The inside filled with liquid clouds of varying colors.

Remus groaned and snatched the cube. "Wormtail, how many times do I have to tell you not to drop this? Why did you waste galleons at that stand of rubbish anyhow?"

Peter bowed his head and frowned deeply. "Sorry Moony. Bloke said it'd bring me luck."

Sirius waved his hands. "Drinks are on the way mate! Meantime, we need to get down to business." He said it as professionally as Sirius Black could ever be capable of expressing.

Peter sat up straighter in his chair. Remus arched one suspicious brow and waited. Yet Sirius seemed to be waiting for something before he began, and held his hand casually in front of him on top of the aged wood.

With a wink, three Firewhiskey's appeared from nowhere.

Remus arched a brow towards Tom the innkeeper who very obviously was grinning at their table and rubbing his hands together. No telling what Sirius had bargained… Sirius' fingers were already gripping the bottle, with a quick chug he set the bottle back with a heavy clink and began, "We only have a week left before we're back at Hogwarts and James has been completely pussy whipped."

"Because of Hermione?" Remus intoned.

Sirius nodded seriously. "She's all he can think or talk about. Trust me, _I know._"

Remus took a swig and growled low at the rough burn. "Prongs seemed fine the other night."

Peter seemed willing to agree, typically. He could never think wrong of James. "Right. We played Quidditch until Mrs. P made us come in."

Sirius huffed a sigh. He was used to dealing with amateurs. Much as he was willing to lay down his life for his friends, didn't mean Remus and Pete's lack of experience in the female department weren't a frequent annoyance. "You didn't hear him talking about her _before_! Worst thing about it is I've met her twice and she's fucking _gorgeous_." Remus' eyebrows rose suspiciously again.

_Oops…_He bit his tongue. _Might not be the best word to get back round to Prongs…_

"Really?" Wormtail's eyes gleamed. He might not have so many Hogsmeade dates as the others, but he was no less appreciative of the female form if not more.

Sirius didn't pause to wonder at the sudden anger that surged in his gut. He leaned forward, trying a different tactic. "Forget about that for a second. My point is that James is laying out his dick for this bint and doesn't even realize it! You know what he said when I mentioned Evans today? He said, _never mind about Lily_. Never mind! _Ha_! As if he were just talking about an exam or last year's…" He moved his hand about with dramatic flair, "Hufflepuff Quidditch stats!"

Remus visibly darkened, "I thought you had told him to move on from Lily earlier this summer? You said, and I quote, 'If Evans could still say no to you after the last attempt she doesn't deserve to walk in the same circles as us Prongsie'."

Sirius didn't appreciate Remus' whiny impression of his polished tone. Gripping the Firewhiskey tighter, "Maybe I did! I'm a never ending supply of shit according to _you_ Moony. But I never thought Prongs would listen! Not two weeks ago he was spouting off some grand new plan to snare Evans for good. We had it timed down to a fault this time, no mistakes! And the moment this Witch shows up he's lost it! Completely mental." Shaking his head he took another draught. What he failed to mention was his hope that if James could finally get over Evans they could go back to the way things were before winter holidays of fourth year, wooing Witches across Hogwarts as an unstoppable force. He hadn't exactly planned on James finding someone to replace Lily.

Remus sighed. "Padfoot, I haven't met Hermione yet, but have you considered the possibility that she's been telling the truth? She showed up barely alive when James found her. Dorea told us that she lost her memories. They called in Professor Dumbledore to help her tonight. And maybe James just feels responsible for her well-being?"

Sirius crossed his arms in front of his chest and scowled hard at his Firewhiskey.

Peter had said little thus far, his eyes had been occupied with the cube he reclaimed form Remus' hand the moment before. The smallest Marauder spoke at the cube. "Maybe we should meet Hermione first before we try to get rid of her?"

Sirius groaned and settled his head in his hands, dragging it slowly before facing a wide eyed Pete. "No! You stupid arse! I wasn't saying we should get rid of her!"

"Then what _are_ you saying? You _insisted _we stop into Leaky because we _had _to hear your big news. So far all I'm hearing is more shit than sense. And I'd better start hearing what's really troubling you Padfoot. Because after the day we've had I wouldn't mind already being in bed thank you very much." Remus tilted his bottle back. Peter began to snort Firewhiskey out his nose at Remus' words. Sirius couldn't help his grin. It _had_ been amusing to see a hexed Remus looking more like the Wolfman earlier during their run in with Slytherin. The Werewolf had no problem with whacking Pete a little harder on the back than necessary. "Well?" The scruffy Marauder tried again.

Sirius shrugged and leaned back again. "What I'm saying Moony is that I think we're very much in danger of losing our best friend."

Remus and Peter stared blankly back, glanced at one another and then to Sirius again. Peter tried first. "So…what are we supposed to do about it?"

"All right Sirius let me try to make sense of this. You don't want to get rid of Hermione, but you think there is something about her worth knowing. You think James is going to forget all about your big plans for Slytherin this year. Am I missing anything?"

Sirius went for another swig of his Firewhiskey and cursed when all that trickled down was air. Running a quick hand through his "shag hair", "I'll admit it sounds a little bonkers when you say it like that. I just think we need to get to the bottom of this. Prongs is clueless which isn't like him. I think we need to find out everything we can about Hermione. Good or bad, whatever we find out can only help James in the end."

"I don't think we're going to learn anything Professor Dumbledore hasn't already tonight," Remus warned.

Peter shook his cube a few times to watch the interchanging colors and Sirius was about ready to smash the crystal into oblivion. _Why did we have to stop at that fucking peddler's stall again?_

"_Sigh…_Dumbledore isn't all knowing Moony. He won't know to look for the things I will…" He frowned, glancing unconsciously at his cousins. The dark robed Purebloods were filing out of the Leaky Cauldron and the room immediately felt cleaner with their absence. He couldn't tell Remus that he thought his family had something to do with Hermione's curse.

And he would rather them all believe he was annoyed by her presence rather than face the truth. The truth had been plaguing him every time he now saw the color gold. Every time he saw the trace of magic thick around her gold garbed form, the gleam of a Marauder in her amber eyes and those plump lips… There was something special about this Witch, something that called to Sirius' unstoppable libido and the something inside of him that hadn't taken any other Witch seriously because he was waiting to find _it_.

The sooner they talked sense into James the better.

_Even better if she checks out and Prongs takes her off the market completely…_

She was tempting. Too tempting for a self-proclaimed bachelor! And Sirius would _never_ hurt his best mate that way.

Lost to his own troubling thoughts Sirius was oblivious to Remus' watchful eyes. He would not care to know that Remus picked up on the many things Sirius _wasn't_ saying, and was just as curious about the Witch as his impatient friend. He, however, was not cursed with the instincts of an impatient dog.

"Firewhiskey's out." Peter announced, upturning the bottle with a sour expression. He lifted his eyes hopefully, patting his hands in perfect rhythm on the old wood. "We got a plan Padfoot? This is our last week before Hogwarts and we're all of age! I heard there's a Hobgoblin concert playing in the Dirty Troll later tonight! Maybe we could crash it?"

Remus chuckled and shared a look with Sirius. The latter was having none of it. It was by _his_ connections they could even hope to sneak into the Dirty Troll to see Stubby Boardman and the Goblins play! And they needed to focus!

"No! Well…maybe if we…no! _No,_" with more resolve, "not until we help Prongs."

"And the plan is?" Remus caught the crystal cube Peter was carelessly tossing in midair and turned a hard eye to him. "No more of this for you."

Sirius adopted his patent lady killer smirk. "I have a few ideas." With this he turned to the shallow tart that had been eyeing him their entire visit to The Leaky. "Oi! Eva, love! Come 'ere."

The busty leggy blonde bounced from her seat while her friends squealed.

Peter immediately perked up in his seat.

Sirius stood and began to lead one of his personal regrets to the bug-eyed innkeeper. "Did you know our friend Tom here isn't _just _the proprietor of Leaky?"

"Ooh? Really Siri? Tell me sweet cheeks! Tell me!" Her hands were running up and down his arms.

He tried not to cringe, kept his grin pasted on and loudly added, "Tom here is _actually_ the secret manager of the Hobgoblins!"

"No! You're lying Siri-sweets! Aren't you?" Her glazed over eyes gleamed however with the potential of meeting another rogue Wizard.

Sirius lathered it on thick. "And you know, I have a feeling he'd _love_ to introduce you to Stubby himself if you play your cards right."

Eva squealed and raced round the side of the bar to grab Tom's arm. "Ah, certainly my dear!" The stuttering innkeeper grinned widely back at Sirius. "You more than held up your end of the bargain mate! It's waiting out back!"

Sirius tipped his thanks with a quick salute and turned round only to find a heavy laden Remus and confused Peter just behind him. "Oi! Scared me there mate!"

Remus' eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"

"Keep your voice down! Come on!" Sirius kept walking while sticking his wand into his jeans back pocket.

"Where are we going?" Peter nearly ran into a dark cloaked Wizard shuffling past them.

Sirius grinned. "We're about to make tonight one Prongs' Hermione won't forget!" The plan wasn't sound, but he could adapt it easily to the idea forming in his mind. And if all went well, he might enjoy himself in the meanwhile…

* * *

James Potter lay on the rug at the center of his heavens covered room. He'd chosen to watch only the stars tonight, all the constellations having long ago been memorized by name. He had always been fascinated by them as a boy, had always wanted to fly so high that he could actually touch them. It was something he had wanted more than anything else in the world, which his parents had more often than not offered to their miracle child on a silver platter.

Unlike every other Pureblood child in their corner of the world, James had only ever been interested in his flying, Quidditch and recently, protecting what he already had. He had always secretly fancied himself a simple bloke. He wanted to live a happy and good life without the weight of the world on his shoulders. He wanted a family like the one his parents had given him. He had always wanted to marry young. For whatever reasons the stories Mother read to him every night from _Beedle the Bard_ and more had stuck with him. And ever since he had half expected his life to play out like a fairy story.

This was something he'd never told to a soul. No self respecting Wizard should expect his life to be that easy! His namesake alone was proof of that! So how could he say anything when the Marauders would label him a self-proclaimed pouf the rest of his days? He'd never live it down!

The stars changed patterns then, peered farther and richer seemed to grow thicker in luster. James groaned out his frustration and stood, began to pace before his open window, wrung his hands with restless energy.

Lately he'd begun to wonder if those dreams he'd had as a boy would ever come true. Or whether he really should pull his head out of the clouds like Mother said and start _thinking_ for a change. It was only natural, she said, for his dreams and his reality to change with age.

But James M. Potter could not stop dreaming about stars. And right now in that moment he wanted nothing more than to disobey his mother's orders.

He had been ushered out of the family's private parlor earlier by his insistent mother. These were things the grown ups had to talk over, she said.

James had been belligerent until his Dad threatened him. He hadn't had the chance to see Hermione since his Uncle Albus left. Or was he still there, talking to his parents and deciding Hermione's future without her say?

"Damn it!" he cursed, pounding his fist into an offending wall. "Ah shit!" The pain in his knuckles didn't make him feel any better. He pressed his forehead to the wall and tried Remus' exercise. "Okay…one…two…three…four…ah Godric's tatty knickers!"

Grabbing his Nimbus he jumped onto the window ledge, settled the broom and jumped off the house's edge. The wind carried him and mussed his hair into an even more untamable fix. It pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. It billowed through his Chudley Cannon's t-shirt and filled him with the high that always came with flying.

_Would she already be asleep?_ He wondered, gripping the broom tighter. He frowned, tucked his chin and sped faster to the corner of the manor, only narrowly avoiding the house elf marching past the window of the tower stair in the process.

Yet here he was, outside of her window again, for the second time in one day. And here the winds had stilled, and the moonless sky seemed even brighter.

He held his breath, felt the same nervous tension _she_ elicited burn in his muscles. He had to see her, just to be certain she was okay. Much as he loved his Uncle Albus, the old bloke could be a right git at times too, especially when it had to do with the War…

There was no question Dumbledore would want her close. James felt the brush of power every time their skin connected. Would she stay with them? Or would he take her away? The very thought did strange things to him.

His heart raced the closer he came to her window, to the small gated balcony overlooking the wilderness around them. She _was_ awake. Her thin form wrapped in some silk contraption that gleamed silver. Her dark curls seemed darker, skin paler, full mouth wrought with concentration and her eyes gleaming with mysterious thoughts.

He sped up unconsciously, eager to reach her, so that she jumped with a shout when he suddenly alighted before her vision, hair a wild mess and grin ready to split his face in two.

"James! You startled me!" She clutched the edge of the black guard with white knuckles. Her eyes were wide and fixed to his. Something surged in his chest and settled low when he realized she was wearing a long thin nightgown. "Ah…James?" His eyes rushed back to hers to find her cheeks pink with embarrassment. "What are you doing here? I thought you went to bed hours ago?"

"Bed? How could I sleep when I knew you were cooked up with Uncle Albus and no knight to rescue you?"

Her brow cocked. "Am I in need of rescuing?"

He put a hand to his jaw and observed their surroundings. "Hm…well there _are_ all kinds of dangers waiting in those woods."

"Really?" The hint of a smile ghosted her lips, danced in her fathomless eyes. He had trouble keeping his humor up without drowning in them…and keeping his broom from crashing into her balcony.

"Ah—course! Centaurs…ghosts _and_ Werewolves…" _If Moony is about that is…_ "and we seem to be having a new creature who tends to fall out of the sky too. Can't predict her at all, love." Hermione's grin was the first true one he had seen and James thought if she didn't say something soon he might end up doing something stupid like falling off his bloody broom!

"So you thought you'd save me before I needed saving?"

"Yeah…" He reached out a hand to grasp the balcony, and covered her fingers instead. James gritted his teeth, suddenly feeling out of breath, his words coming out huskier than he intended. "Care for a spin, love?"

Her amber eyes darkened, and his heart clenched painfully when he saw the hesitation suddenly cross her face.

"I can't rescue you if you don't come, you know," he offered lightly.

Her smile was slow, yet she nodded as though to herself and threw her long legs on either side of the balcony. James pressed against the gate edge and held his breath when he felt her fingers grip his shoulders and then the too wonderful feeling of her body sliding down against his back. This time, her hands moved immediately to wrap round his waist.

Power hummed between them, the sensation so thick that he had to shut his eyes and steel against it. _What is it about this Witch!_ He silently groaned, muscles in his arms and abdomen tightening with her touch. She chuckled. "Are we going to sit here the rest of the night then? Or is that the extent of your skills of rescuing?" Her chin rested against his shoulder blade, her breath warm against his neck.

He grinned and opened his eyes. _You asked for it love…_Without word of warning, he pressed his bare feet in the hooks and searched for the bottomless well of magic in his soul.

They burst with frightening speed into the night sky, and Hermione squealed in his hear.

James laughed as they reached the Quidditch pitch and eased into a slow stop beside the lowest Keeper's ring. He laughed harder when after his Witch caught her breath she began to pound her tiny fists into his back.

"What the bloody hell was that about?"

Something about the way she swore thrilled him as it probably shouldn't. He twisted round so he could see the flash of anger and excitement in her eyes. Her hair was poofy as a bird's nest. "Aw come on love, you know you loved it!"

She lifted her chin, crossing her arms before her chest and separating them. He did _not_ like that. "So much for rescuing me! I might have fallen off and broken more bones and all because you're such an insufferable git!" Prodding his shoulder with one last jab of her fist, James clenched his thighs round the broom and grabbed her by the waist. "What? Let go of me! What do you think you're doing?" He deposited her onto the metal ring with little trouble, waiting till she was gripping it for dear life before pulling his broom apart with a nasty grin.

"Well, if you aren't up to it I'll leave you here then, shall I?" He bit back his laughter to see her eyes bulge comically.

"No!" Reaching a desperate hand towards him she was forced to grip the ring once more when the wind returned. "You can't just leave me here all night you arse!"

James began to circle her with his broom. He offered her a dark grin. "Hmm…that isn't such a bad idea! Though maybe I should tie you up first in case you nod off yeah?" Her eyes narrowed with what seemed to be a well-practiced glare. It was the sort that Moony was always using every time he or Padfoot were up to no good. Unlike Moony, however, James found her death impaling glare exciting him in obvious ways. "No?" He offered, flying in closer again. "Guess I don't have any choice then."

To her hidden amazement he had the audacity to steady his broom in midair, steel his arms and propping his bare feet onto the thin dark wood, shakily begin to remove his hands. "Goodbye cruel world!"

"James! No! You stupid git! You'll kill yourself!"

"Bending his knees, straightening his spine slowly he spread his arms out on either side and glanced at her. "Shouting in my ear isn't going to help love…" Sticking his tongue out the corner of his mouth slightly he frowned and focused. The deeper he pulled at the endless magic in his soul, the easier it was to see each shift the wind around him was taking, each path that would lead to either his becoming a splat on the turf or not.

Hermione gasped when he opened his eyes again and met her disbelieving eyes. "How did you…"

James grinned down at her, shifted with each gust of the wind. He didn't stumble the longer he focused on her eyes. "Lots of practice love."

She shook her head, wonder quickly replaced with ire. It was something he loved about her. "I can't believe anyone could be so stupid."

He held out his palms. "You clearly haven't met the rest of the Marauders then." He grinned, and with a move only perfected after several previously mended bones, he jumped.

Hermione screamed.

James caught the edge of the ring with one arm and the tip of his broom with the other, and laughing pulled himself up to sit beside the half hysterical Witch.

"You stupid arse! You could have slipped! Do you ever stop to use your bloody head!" Her flat palms were beating at his chest.

Laughter abated, he grinned and caught her hand in his. "Keep your claws in love!"

Her cheeks reddened, eyes wide and wreathed with flame. She set her jaw and tried to pull her hand free. "You can't keep risking your life like an arse that doesn't care! No wonder your Mum is so strict with you! She knows you'd go do the first thoughtless irrational thing you could think of!"

Her words jabbed at his temper in a way only his Mum and Sirius were experts at. His expression darkened instantly. "Would you stop acting like you're the bloody queen of everything?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Her eyes narrowed.

He waved his free had exasperated, "Like you know me so well after only two sodding days!" With the other he pressed hers even more tightly to his chest.

She choked a laugh. "It doesn't take very long to see what I see!"

"What exactly is that?" Her skin was cool against his heated chest, his heart pounded so hard she _had_ to be hearing this! At the moment he wasn't quite sure what they were arguing about. The only coherent thought running through his head was how bloody gorgeous she looked right then, their thighs pressed together. She was shouting something nonsensical now, all her words faded in the growing hum of magic pulsing from her in thick waves, ringing in his ears. And the moment her words were spent there were only the labored breaths and heated glares between them. He wanted to thread his fingers through hers, he wanted to bury his face into her curls and then drown her words with his lips…

She seemed to notice at last his eyes had strayed from her face, and her hand tensed. "James?" Softer, without hell's fury…he leaned into her compelled. She gasped, her lips parted, eyes flickering with confusion from his heated eyes to his lips and back.

_So perfect…_

He brought her hand to wrap round his neck and with a strong arm reached to grasp her waist with a trembling arm.

Her eyelids fluttered, and for one blessed moment their breath mingled in the cool night air. Her fingers tightened against his neck.

And then…

"—bloody as a Centaur's hoof! Ma-an she drains me like a rancor's breath!" Two voices chorused together over the soft unmistakable purr of a motor engine.

_Tossing…basted…Merlin's bloody beard! _James came through the foggy haze with a low groan and turned, tightening his hold of Hermione's waist even though she removed her hand and froze into herself beside him. He had no intention of moving. And that included the lifeless broom held between his crossed feet at the moment. He could hear Sirius' inevitable comments already!

The flying motorcycle light blinded them both for a moment and then shakily lowered to reveal two obviously hammered Marauders and a very sore looking Remus in the sidecar attached to the bike.

Hermione gasped. "He really does have a flying motorbike!"

James grunted a reply. Sirius was gonna pay for this later! James was thinking along the lines of, no more covering for his broom cupboard rendezvous after this!

The Marauders paused in the air in front of them. Peter held up two bottles of uncorked Firewhiskey from behind a gleeful Sirius. "Oi! Prongs! Lookie what Pads-s picked up!"

James rolled his eyes. _Leaky Cauldron was it?_ "Get out of the sky before you wreck that thing Padfoot, you wanker!"

Sirius sputtered mid-chorus, "What? Is-is that any way to treat your best mate Prongsie? We just thought we'd bring the party to you since Herminny was here! Like the bike, love?"

His hand tightened on her hip. She glanced at him curiously before turning to the devilish Black. "It's Her-mione, first of all! And I certainly wouldn't go riding with _you_ in that thing with someone as gone as you!"

James grinned at her heated response.

Remus tugged at Sirius' robe. "Padfoot you're making an ass of yourself again! Can you lower this damned thing before you murder us all?"

Sirius grumbled beneath his breath. "What's that supposed to mean?" He glanced back at Peter as though wounded. "I'm the most fucking responsible bloke you'll ever m-meet this side of the sodding world!"

"Right!" Peter quipped through a quick swig and appreciative grin for Hermione's night dress.

James grit his teeth. "Moony, you better get them off the pitch before _I_ do. Padfoot won't like my way after he wakes up in the morning." He sent a glare for his best mate and frowned. Sirius' eyes were on Hermione this time, keen and calculating and entirely _too_ sober.

"Padfoot just park the bike already, will you?" Remus had had more than enough of their friends already.

"Fine! Fine! We're going!" Sirius blew Hermione a parting kiss. "Hermione, love, next time I'll be on my b-best behavior! And you won't mind after I drive you circles round the moon baby!"

Peter howled dramatically before choking on his drink. Remus rolled his eyes and set his chin heavily into his hand. James' scowl drew on a threatening shadow.

"Hurry along!" Remus had lost the end of his fuse.

Sirius laughed and turned the bike away with a light roar of his engine. James wished in that moment he hadn't spent half their summer helping him fix the damned thing. And then heard something that he would wonder on later.

Peter was shouting over the engine and the full winds, "Guess t-that didn't work, eh?"

"Shut up Wormtail!" Sirius grumbled.

Hermione was still watching them curiously, only after they had disappeared into the shed did she wonder, "How much Firewhiskey did they have on them?"

"More like _in_ them." James shook his head. How had Sirius convinced Tom to give them _another_ free pack? To Hermione he only grinned. "Sorry about that. We tend to do things a little overboard you know."

She rolled her eyes at him with a half grin. "Yeah, I noticed."

His grin widened, and once again he was swept away by the smell of her shampoo, the burn of her skin beneath the thin fabric separating them. His breath caught in his chest and James allowed himself to wonder for the first time.

What was happening to him?

And why did her eyes suddenly look so sad?

"So…it is late." She began, not meeting his gaze. "I think it's time we both went to bed, don't you?"

It took every ounce of will he possessed to let go of her waist and kick up his broom into the air and to his waiting hands with a pasted on grin. "Sure thing love!"

James realized soon after he lay in his bed, he still didn't know whether Hermione was staying or leaving him.

* * *

**Review: Did you figure out what Sirius' "grand plan" was? If not you will! **


	12. I: both sides

**A/N: Lol, no, it's not Twilight ;)**

* * *

**Part 1: PRE-HOGWARTS**

**Chapter 12**

**both sides**

* * *

The thin strip between the Muggle book and music shops would have seemed like any other dingy alley in London. And the Muggles Hermione and Dorea passed by didn't look twice at their distinctly Wizarding garb, though several Witches and Wizards nodded to the beautiful Mrs. Potter nee Black as they entered the Leaky Cauldron.

Hermione's head was still muddled slightly from the pull of apparating, yet she was still thankful for the detour Dorea had taken them. Most Wizards Apparated directly into Diagon Alley or used the Floo Network. Yet Hermione had insisted that if she were to suddenly meld back into Wizarding society she didn't want to fall into the commercial center of it.

It was enough she were coming at all, in Hermione's mind. Despite the charms Dorea had cast to change her hair from a chocolate bushy brown to soft straight gold, Hermione still felt naked.

_This is for Dumbledore…_

She nodded to herself and crossed her arms over her chest. Dorea had lent another set of old indigo robes, far less attention grabbing than dazzling gold.

"Mrs. Potter! What a supr-ah pleasure to see you!" A slightly hunched over Wizard had rushed to meet them both. Hermione kept her chin up when several heads turned with curiosity.

"Thank you Tom. We're just going to take a turn round back today if you don't mind."

Tom turned to Hermione with a quick wink and cleaned the empty mug in his hand more vigorously. "Course! Course! Right this way, ah, you know the way I expect."

Dorea's smooth features tilted with her half smile and Hermione saw James in his mother for the first time. "Thank you. Come along Hermione."

_Please don't say my name!_

She could only pray she wasn't known too well from wherever it was she came from. Gripping her thin outer robe tightly she followed Dorea through the back door of the medieval pub and into a tiny brick walled courtyard. Everything about it felt familiar to Hermione, from the moldy smell of the Leaky to the tap of Dorea's wand against the set of brick before them. And she almost felt that if she thought hard enough, she could see all the wondrous sights about to be laid before them.

Dorea hesitated once the bricks reassembled themselves and opened into the crowded street ahead. Her soft sapphire eyes searched Hermione's blanched features. "Are you ready?"

Hermione shook her head. So many pointed hats and billowing robes, crooked and straight noses, lovely and unsavory characters marched up and down the hubbub. She shook her head again and blinked when she felt Dorea's gloved palm pat her shoulder.

The taller woman drew in her gaze and once more smiled James' half grin. "You must come Hermione. We must follow your guardian's wishes and rejoin society. It is the only way we can learn who you are again."

"I'm not certain I want to know…"

"Ah, tush! You are not the first Witch forced to hold her head in a magical room and fear disgrace! I myself was nearly disowned by my family for marrying Charlus you know. And my family can be far more frightening than the people you'll meet today."

Hermione nodded and allowed Dorea to slowly guide her beyond the brick courtyard, the rumble as they magically reassembled didn't turn her concentration.

And Dorea noted all these things. "Now, I agreed to the hair charm only at your insistence. I'll leave it to you to explain any changes to your fellow classmates you come across today." She laughed lightly.

Hermione smiled. Though it was her plan to be as inconspicuous as possible and hope that she _wouldn't _be remembered.

Dorea walked on, chatting amiably as they shouldered between Witches and Wizards. "Now, Minerva has already ordered your books and potions supplies so no need to stop by Potage's, Flourish and Blotts or that smelly Apothecary." She clapped her gloved fingers together, eyes sparkling.

Hermione frowned. The very thought of books and knowledge filled her with longing and fear, fear for what she might already know. Walking into a book shop might not be the best idea anyhow.

They were forced to sidestep a small family of Muggles loaded already with dozens of items. The father in particular seemed to be struggling with the sacks and owl cage in his other hand.

"Come along Charlie! We don't have all day!" The mother had her eyes screwed on the map in her hands.

And their small daughter with her thick curls glanced shyly at Hermione between. Something tugged at her heartstrings.

"—so I was thinking we should find you a familiar and all your supplies first, dear. Were you thinking of an owl or something a little more manageable? Dear?" Dorea twirled round from several paces ahead with a puzzled look.

Hermione still stood beside the Muggle family at the center of the street. Several magical families passed them by none too gently. All must be bound for the same school as she was. Yet they almost sneered down at the Muggles.

"Mudblood filth…" The tall dark haired father of one remarked.

Her blood boiled, eyes flashed. Within seconds she had reached the Muggle family, oblivious to the scorn they had just received.

"Oh Miriam, honey, I don't know how much longer I can tote these blasted books around!"

Miriam waved his comment away. "Charlie it's all part of the deal. Just grin and bear it love."

Their daughter was watching Hermione's approach with wide eyes and tugging on her father's untucked button up shirt. "Daddy!"

"Not now pumpkin, I think I may drop the whole lot! I don't know how the others do it! Ooh!" The top package slipped from the crook of his arm and Hermione caught it with ready hands.

She exchanged a smile for their bewildered looks, "Ah, here."

The girl smiled a toothy grin, taking the package before her dad could protest. "Thanks!"

"No problem," Hermione smiled back.

"All right, I think if we go down three more blocks we'll reach this Madame Malkin's!" Miriam exclaimed.

Dorea came behind Hermione and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Pardon me but I believe you need to walk the other direction if you're looking for Madame Malkin's shop."

Miriam turned round with a ready grin, her long brown hair bouncing behind her. "Oh! Thank you so much! I've been studying this thing for the last half hour! Everything's so different you know?" Her eyes surveyed both Hermione and Dorea's clothing. She hesitated. "Well, ah, maybe you don't."

Dorea smiled generously. "Here, I bet those are far too heavy for you." Her wand was out with honed reflexes, waving over the many packages which all shrank beneath it.

"Whoa!" Charlie nearly jumped out of his skin. Their daughter giggled. "That was amazing! Don't think we'll ever get used to this place Miriam!"

Hermione held out her hand to the girl. "What's your name?"

"Leah…" Her thick curls hid her face, though she took Hermione's hand boldly.

"Are you going to Hogwarts too?"

Leah's eyes brightened. "Yeah! I'm going to learn to do magic for real!"

Hermione grinned. "I am too, Leah. Hope I see you there. I'm Hermione."

"Pleased to meet you." Leah grinned shyly.

"Yes it was a pleasure meeting all of you! But I'm afraid Hermione and I are on a tight schedule today! So many places to visit." Dorea began to pull Hermione away slowly yet surly and the Muggles waved their goodbyes.

Hermione turned her head just as they had nearly walked too far and smiled. "See you around, Leah."

"Bye!" Leah waved enthusiastically, eyes shining with meeting her first magical friend.

Dorea urged them along, eyes darting to the various Witches and Wizards eyeing them still. Her face was drawn and slightly pensive. "You know, dear, I was actually thinking we should stop by Gringotts first. Albus wanted me to show you how to access his vault any time you should have need of it in the future."

Hermione frowned, glancing back to find the Muggle family now lost in the sea of robes. "What is it?"

"Hmm? What do you mean, dear?" Dorea seemed distracted by something, and her grip tightened on Hermione's shoulder.

"You seem nervous. Is it about helping that Muggle family?"

Dorea looked down at her as though struck for a moment, yet never ceased their progression to the tall fortress of a building looming ahead. "_Sigh_… no my dear. I assure you I am not the sort of Pureblood you are inferring I am. I am only looking out for your safety."

"My safety? But they weren't dangerous. I didn't do anything wrong!"

Dorea glanced round quickly before lowering her head towards Hermione's ear. "Yes, my dear. But you never know who could be watching and listening!" She hissed the last and Hermione felt her anger simmer and grow.

_**The War…**_

"It shouldn't matter who I do and don't talk to."

"But it _does_, Hermione. And if you want to keep a low profile as you insisted, befriending Muggles before magical families in public is _not _wise. You-Know-Who has spies everywhere. And incidents like you just pulled could make you an open target before you've even been sorted!" She bit her lip, and for the first time Hermione saw the age within her worry lines. "You must know the consequences of your actions now, Hermione. I won't allow what's happened to some of your future classmates to happen to you."

"But it shouldn't matter what others think! I don't care what may have happened to anyone else. How can we just sit by and let the Muggles be treated like lesser human beings?"

Dorea's eyes turned fierce, her grip almost painful, tone pleading. "Please, Hermione. You _must_ promise me you will do nothing that can cost you your life. I try to tell the boys but they rarely listen to me. You must be smart for all of them, dear. It isn't just what might happen to you that is the danger. It is what will happen to everyone you love and hold dear if You-Know-Who hears about you. Please trust what I say, Hermione. I know better than most what can happen to those who defy him."

"So you're saying I should do nothing?" She stared back incredulous. If this was how those on the light side of the war acted no wonder Voldemort was growing stronger!

Dorea sighed again, eyes softening, voice weary. "You don't know what he is capable of. Not many do yet. It's coming though, Hermione. And when it comes it will affect us all. I am not asking you to put aside your principals, which I am pleased to see. But I am asking you to be mindful. Watch every thing that you do. Trust an old Slytherin who knows." She tapped her nose and grinned.

Hermione nodded and Dorea seemed satisfied by the look in her eye.

"Excellent! Well that's enough talk of such things!" She brushed her hands as though brushing away darker thoughts and pasted on a smile. "Let's get this money business over and done with! The sooner we get through the rest of your necessities and to your new wardrobe the better!"

Hermione smiled back, somehow less than excited as Dorea at the prospect of trying on dozens of clothes.

Was this how it was going to be? She couldn't remember a world instilled with fear and dangers like this. For the first time she began to actually look into the faces of people they passed by and could feel the tension in the air. Despite the bright colors and laughter of children, there was wariness in many faces, mistrust and paranoia in others. Several shops looked recently shut down, and everywhere there were stands for the Daily Prophet that Charlus read each morning. And the headlines whispered of war.

* * *

Gringotts was a world that seemed to accept Dorea Potter nee Black very well. Hermione was beginning to understand just how important the Blacks were to Wizarding society, at least to those wearing the finest robes. Yet she was also learning how important Dorea Potter was as well. All met her with kindness or at least practiced gentility and she gave as well as she got. Thus far they had managed to avoid introducing the blonde haired girl with her. And even the Goblins of Gringotts were very happy to help Mistress Potter.

Who they did not accept however was the introduction of Albus Dumbledore's heir to their vaults. The Professor had lived a very long time, long as Charlus Potter. The Dumbledore's were a very old Wizarding family themselves, Purebloods though Blood Traitors, and Albus was without a family left to share his fortune with.

The Goblin who opened the newly shared Dumbledore vault, Griphook, had fixed Hermione with a nasty glare as she filled her pouch with Galleons. She didn't feel too guilty for taking the Professor's money after seeing just how much of it he had in reserve.

And by the time they were off to Ollivander's, "_Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC"_, painted with peeling gold letters over the shabby looking door, Hermione had almost forgotten to be angry at the world she had woken up to.

The shop was empty, save mountains of narrow boxes neatly piled from floor to ceiling.

Dorea walked and sat primly in the single spindly-legged chair waiting nearby. "Go on and have a look, dear."

Hermione set her bags at her side and began to walk down the narrow isle's.

She jumped when a back door creaked and a blurred image raced past the rows of boxes.

"Hello? Ah! What have we here?" The gray haired old Wizard hobbled from the opposite end of her aisle and Hermione found herself warming instantly to the strange pale-eyed shop keep. "A new customer I believe!"

Hermione held out her hand and smiled. "Hermione Dumbledore." It was strange to her how easily the name rolled off her tongue.

The man was already shaking her hand in turn yet froze the moment she gave him her name. His pale eyes widened, filled with an indiscernible expression. "Dumbledore…indeed…yes, I can see it now." His eyes traveled and outline of her form and his grip tightened. "Heavy magic around you my dear, very heavy…finding your wand will not be easy…"

He measured her between her eyes, the span of her fingertips to her shoulder, from shoulder to shoulder and then from her chin to her belly button. And ushering her back to the front entrance and a very curious, bemused Dorea Potter, whom he nodded a hello, Ollivander began to bring in the boxes.

Hermione tried ten in all, two phoenix feather, three unicorn hair, two cherry wood and two of ash and one holly and phoenix feather of eleven inches. Each brought her disastrous results, though a couple only managed to set her clothes on fire with the sparks.

She could tell the old man was exasperated after the last attempt though he seemed somewhat relieved from the results of the last.

Dorea laughed as Ollivander was forced to stamp flames from his outer robe. "Ah, well it must be lovely to find a challenge once in a while old friend."

"My dear Dorea, your presence could mean nothing less than challenging."

Hermione grinned up at Dorea and Ollivander began to mumble to himself as he returned to the back of his shop.

Dorea smiled. "We were House rivals, you know. Yet he never quite forgave me for saying no to his invitation to his Gala that year."

"Of course I forgave you dear Dorea!" Ollivander called from the dusky mountain of boxes.

Hermione held back her laughter. Yet the moment was lost after a long moment of the wand maker's absence, she heard a fain hum sing in the air. She turned slowly, grimacing as though a sudden weight had settled over her.

Ollivander appeared from nowhere it seemed, his features fixed on the wand, pale eyes lifting to meet hers once he stood before her. "Try this one." His wrinkled hand pried the box apart.

Hermione frowned at the wooden stick before her. It was ten inches, of some very old looking darkened wood, so old and thick that she could almost feel the hands that had held it before. And the song in her ears grew louder. "What is it?"

"A very old wand my grandfather came into possession of. It has not accepted a new owner since then."

She was uncertain whether or not she liked the look in the Wizard's eyes, or the fact that she had to practically force her hand from grabbing it right away. She steadied her hand, however, bit her lip and wrapped her fingers around the old wood. It occurred to her distant logical mind that this wand had not been made by Ollivander. And there were hardly any wands found now that were not made by the oldest wand shop in Wizarding Britain!

She gasped as the song crashed like a wave over her. She smelled fresh flowers, spring and rain, sunlight, _life_ as brilliant bursts of light filled the tiny shop, and the wands in their boxes began to rattle with the sudden wind, until as quickly as it had come, the magic ceased. Hermione stared at the warm wood in her palm.

Ollivander smiled a very uncanny smile and accepted Dorea's payment.

As they walked out of the shop, Hermione turned to see his eyes still watching. "We'll be expecting great things of you Hermione Dumbledore!"

* * *

"Tell me what we're doing here again?" Sirius shook his taller friend's Quidditch built arm.

James huffed a sigh and turned his eye from the opposite side of the busy street. "Mum wouldn't let me come with them today."

Sirius interrupted. "And you really wanted to go shopping _that badly_ Prongs?"

Peter snorted a laugh that ceased the moment James gave him a dark glare.

"No you wanker!" Settling his eyes on Sirius again a fleeting moment, he turned and watched his mother lead Hermione inside Magical Menagerie. "We need to keep an eye out to see who takes notice of her. It could be the key to everything…"

Remus had been silent though agreeing with the logic James used to con them into Diagon Alley the _second_ day in a row. He teased, "Are you that worried about another bloke taking notice of her? I think you have enough competition right here." He ignored the darker Pureblood beside him.

James tensed slightly, yet to their surprise didn't react. "Look, for the millionth time, she's not my girl! I'm just trying to look out for her is all! She's worried about which side of the War she was on. We're here to find that out."

Sirius wrapped his arms round his chest. "Can we please talk about something else besides the bloody War? It hasn't even started yet!"

James shook his head. "You don't see it yet do you? The War _has_ started. Didn't you pay attention last term at all? What happened to Winifred could just as easily happen to us. Haven't you been _looking_ every time you come down this street? It's written on their bloody faces!"

Peter wrung his hands together and tugged at James' jumper sleeve. "You really think You-Know-Who would just attack any of us?"

James shrugged and turned to meet his friend's eye. "Why not you or I?" Peter ducked his head, glancing nervously at the street displayed before them. Yet there was something James saw in his soft-spoken friend, a spark that made him believe old Wormtail understood, that he believed and felt it too. James had always known Pete wasn't the idiot everyone else thought him to be. He was less outspoken, burdened with the least pleasing looks out of the four, but he watched and he saw everything. James could always count on Peter to understand the things Remus ignored or Sirius was too arrogant to notice.

Sirius groaned. "Can we _please_ not talk about this again? You made your point clear the first few days after _she_ showed up, all right? We get it there's a war out there and it's real, but I would rather wait until after graduation before jumping into the middle of it. That was the plan, yeah?"

"If anything we should be trying to get into the Order _sooner_." James's eyes narrowed through the lens of his spectacles.

"Padfoot has a point, Prongs. Don't you think we should just try to enjoy the time we have? Has anyone heard if she's coming back this year?" Remus had colored at the mention of Winifred and James felt a twinge of guilt to see his expression. They all knew how he had pined after the blonde Muggle-born Witch last term. James had suspected it something that went a lot further back.

"Who?" Sirius was watching the shapely legs displayed by a bolder Witch who breezed by.

Remus growled. "Winifred, you prat! Who else? Why can't you take anything seriously?"

Sirius merely shrugged, eyes still following the sway of the Witch's hips. "Oh yeah. Sorry mate her buck teeth threw me of third year."

Peter stepped in between them. "Oi, Padfoot. Didn't you remember their Hogsmeade date?"

Remus' fists were clenched and he looked ready to throttle them both.

"Shh!" James waved them down and turned to face them with wide eyes. "They're coming our way boys."

Sirius groaned. "Damn! If Mummy P finds out we're not doing the chores she gave us she'll give us even deeper shit!"

James rolled his eyes at his overly dramatic best mate. "Oh poor baby. Least then you'll finally get the same list I do every summer."

"Yes," Remus interjected, "that does tend to happen when one procrastinates. Have you even finished half our summer holiday assignments?"

"Aw sod off Moony!" Sirius glared at the tall Werewolf.

James grinned.

"They just walked past us. Didn't even look twice!" Peter exclaimed.

James panicked. He shouldn't have let Sirius distract him! That was all the dog had been doing since James gave him an ear full over breakfast. Suffering from a hang over until James cast a sobering-up charm, Sirius had finally been persuaded to come to Diagon Alley with the promise of seeing some girls. Only later did he realize they were only meant to _spy_ on two, and one was most definitely not a girl. "Come on! Hurry up before we lose 'em again!"

The Marauders followed their unofficial leader through the maze of people. Peter begged to drop by Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor to which Sirius eagerly seconded the motion.

James had merely reminded them both their debt a third time for the day. "Your plan last night didn't exactly work out did it? Whatever you had in mind for Hermione you can just forget about. But don't think you're off the hook yet."

Remus chuckled behind them and Sirius grumbled.

James' eyes widened and he ducked behind a stray booth trying to sell protection charms, grabbing Sirius and Peter by their shirts with him. Remus, who was nearly a head taller than James and had already seen the problem followed.

"Oi! Easy Prongs!"

"What the bloody hell is your problem!" Sirius hissed. It was then he took in his best mate's clenched fists, drawn wand and red face and decided to follow his line of sight, only to feel his heart sink into his stomach. "_Shit_."

* * *

Hermione was in love.

The little orange ball of fluff had practically called her name across the magical pet shop. Her heart had warmed at being reminded of the stuffed animal sitting on top of her bedcovers back home at the moment. The little ball of fluff looked just like it save the obvious tendencies of a cat in the mix.

A hissing, spitting creature, the half kneazle leapt into her arms, to the terror of the sales clerk. He had warned her they had been unable to get rid of the blasted thing since it fell on their doorstep and thus far had caused quite a mess in the Menagerie.

Dorea reluctantly purchased the creature Hermione felt certain should be named Crookshanks.

And thus far he had been silent along the way to Madame Malkin's from within his new cage held in Hermione's arms.

Until they had run into the richly dressed family standing directly in the middle of their path, that is.

Dorea seemed to draw on her superior height, only outdone by the equally tall older black haired woman opposite her. Lifting her chin with a superior glance, her voice dripping with frigid politeness, "Walburga."

"Dorea." The woman replied.

Hermione froze from just behind the edge of Dorea's robes and tried to calm down her upset familiar while looking discreetly at the black haired, high dollar robed Wizards. The oldest woman, Walburga looked to be a bit younger than Dorea and there was something in her aquiline features that was oddly familiar. Her black, silver streaked hair was piled high on top of her head and set off by an equally outrageous hat. Her navy robes were studded with gleaming jewels and everything about her screamed wealth and snobbery.

"Fancy running into you here my dear cousin. We were just at Madame Malkin's buying new dress robes for my darling Regulus. Possible internships have already begun to pile up so that we don't know what to do with them!" Her thin smile was more a sneer as her eyes chose that moment to scathe Hermione up and down. "Are you em…shopping for Hogwarts as well?"

Dorea smiled just as sweetly, "Why yes I am! In fact we were just on our way to Madame Malkin's as well."

The couple at Walburga's side was dressed accordingly though there was something in the wild gleam of the young woman's eyes Hermione did not like. Her thick black curls were neatly coifed and the veil hung over her eyes but did not mask the curiosity and contempt in them. She sniffed now. "Aunty, why are we speaking to this _Blood Traitor_? Look at it, Rodolphus! It still speaks as though it were one of us."

"Enough, Bellatrix." Walburga sniffed and turned a hard eye to the shorter woman. "We shall meet you at Borgin and Burkes shortly."

With this dismissal the hard nosed man, Rodolphus ushered his wife along. Bellatrix did not look at Hermione twice, a fact she was very grateful.

"Forgive Bellatrix, Dorea. Her manners have not improved with age. She has the temperament of her father I am afraid."

To Hermione's surprise Dorea laughed. "Indeed, that is a terrible shame. She was such a beautiful little child. Oh my! Is that Regulus?"

Walburga smiled almost genuinely then and pushed the tall boy forward. "Yes, it is. Regulus you will remember the Lady Potter."

Hermione had not even seen the gangly boy until that moment. Beside the grandeur of his mother, his black and green lined robes looked almost common. He was tall as his mother, though by his look Hermione suspected he might rival James in height soon. Something about his slightly long black hair looked familiar. His features were similar to his mother yet his chin was stronger and defined, his nose straight and thin and his eyes framed by what must be the bane of his existence for they were slightly long for a boy. He nodded politely to Dorea and offered a crooked grin. "Pleasure to see you again, cousin." His voice was disturbingly similar though she couldn't place how.

It was in the midst of Dorea and Walburga's continuing Pureblood small talk that Regulus' eyes flickered at last to hers and Hermione froze. They were _blue_, and not just any blue, but the same startling sapphire as Dorea's. And they were not filled with any hidden mischief or cool reserve as his elder cousins, but rather calculating, burdened and filled with heavily masked grief?

Were these the family Dorea had warned her about earlier, the illustriously notorious Black family?

Her mind fell blank then of all times, and filled with the mind splitting rush of knowledge and pages of long forgotten books, and fleetingly, a giant wall sized tapestry...

* * *

Regulus Black had been watching the young Witch approach for some time, in fact, long before his mother had taken notice of the infamous Lady Potter guiding her.

He wasn't sure at first what drew his eye to her. She looked just like any other average Witch on the street in his opinion. Perhaps it was the boring hour they had just spent with Madame Malkin that made his eye starved of beauty.

The Witch wasn't strikingly beautiful, yet something had compelled him to look at her twice. And on second glance, Regulus realized he had been _dead_ wrong.

She _was_ beautiful, in an understated compelling way that made him forget himself in the moment. And there was something else, a glowing halo of crackling energy that pulsed with each beat of his heart. Regulus could practically feel her magical energy half a block away, and he had wasted no time in piquing his Mum's interest.

She had been eager to meet her estranged cousin, despite how bitchy Bellatrix reacted.

Regulus had snorted to himself, struggling to focus his thoughts with _her_ so near. Purebloods like Bellatrix all made themselves bitches to the Dark Lord with their narrow views. Regulus agreed with his Mum in this, that there were too few of the old families left to be toting around old grudges. And he cringed when he saw the gleam in her eye as she surveyed the timid Witch beside Dorea.

"And who might this young lady be, cousin? I was not aware James had any close kin left after his great uncle Peverell's tragic death."

Regulus' eyes narrowed imperceptibly, he made certain to keep a constant pleasant grin as he watched the Witch bite her full lip before lifting her head with sudden fierce pride.

"Oh no!" Dorea placed a gloved hand on Hermione's shoulder. "This isn't any of our close kin, Walburga. I'm simply aiding an old friend of James' in seeing her ready for Hogwarts next term."

Regulus knew his mother would not rest until she learned everything there was to know about this Witch. Especially if there were the chance she were Pureblood.

"Oh?" He had always thought his mother's _sweet_ voice more like the whine of a squeaky wheel. "Well how kind of you to aid a friend in this matter! Hogwarts is it? Where has she been schooling from before this?"

"Private tutors I am afraid. Her Uncle believed that the strain of being related to such an important Wizard might be overwhelming to a young girl."

Her amber colored eyes met his once more, and once again he was shocked by the full weight of them, by the strength he saw in those large round orbs.

Walburga's smile grew with each word. "I see! And to which illustrious name does she come to share?"

In her sweetest tone Dorea answered and Regulus' destiny was drastically altered though he didn't yet know it, "Dumbledore."

Walburga could not contain her gasp. She turned a hard gray eye to her son and back to the young Witch again.

Hermione spoke for the first time, in answer to the soft encouraging smile Dorea offered. "Hermione Dumbledore and it is a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Black."

Walburga seemed positively boiling over with syrupy flattery. To Regulus it was disgusting. She took Hermione's offered hand with both of hers and leaned forward. "Well met Miss Dumbledore! As I mentioned before, this is my son Regulus Black."

Regulus grinned again, more at the amused gleam in Hermione's eye than anything. He was reaching out his hand and their fingertips brushed when-

"Oi! Mummy dearest! Long time no hate!"

Regulus cringed.

Hermione's eyes widened considerably and turned to take in the short, disgusting Peter Pettigrew amble up beside her with a toothy grin. "Hello Hermione! Fancy finding you here! Name's Peter! Haven't had the chance to meet you properly yet. Sorry bout last night." He took Hermione's hand with his grubby paw.

Walburga drew herself up, nose high in the air as her imperious brow.

_Well this should be interesting…_

Sure enough, his brother brushed in between Hermione and their mother and threw an arm round Walburga's stiff shoulders. Regulus was pleased to note he was a half head higher than Sirius now.

Dorea was glaring daggers at both boys. "What are you two doing here? James isn't with you is he?" Her eyes moved past them to scan the busy streets.

Walburga sniffed, "I would kindly ask you to remove your arm!"

Sirius only leaned in closer and gave Regulus a dark look to which he had no trouble returning. "Oh Mummy I love you too, you miserable old tyrant!"

"Sirius!" Dorea exclaimed.

"Forgive me Dorea, Hermione, for this _crude _interruption." Walburga did not look at his brother once. It was something that she was talking to him at all after last year's hell raiser. To Hermione she smiled sweetly. "I should very much love to have you over for tea some time my dear. I shall send you my invitation to be used at your disposal."

Hermione nodded with an equally polite grin and held the meowing cage closer to her chest.

Sirius interrupted again. "Tea? Ooh how kind of you Mummy! Going to offer Mione some of that Firewhiskey you keep in the cupboard too?"

Hermione and Dorea both frowned.

Regulus shook his head. "Hello Sirius. Been a pleasure, now why don't you go back to whatever Mudblood whore house you just came from and clean up the street for us?"

Sirius pulled away at last from their Mum. Just in time too, Regulus could already see that vein in her forehead throbbing. At this rate he was lucky Walburga had _only_ blasted his name off the family tree. Holding up his hands he smiled amiably at them both and with just the same bloody tone he had used the day he walked out on their family forever, "Always a pleasure Reggie, Mummy. Hope you enjoy torturing Muggles with your Lord."

Walburga wasted no time in nodding politely once more to Dorea and Hermione before marching away. "Come, Regulus!"

Regulus paused a moment to return his brother's disgusted glare before obeying.

"Filthy Blood Traitor! How dare he parade your father's ring when _you_ are the rightful heir!" Walburga growled, her eyes fixed on Knockturn Alley ahead.

Regulus turned one last time to watch Dorea chewing out his traitor-brother and his piggish friend with a satisfied grin.

Yet his eyes lingered on Hermione longer, and his blood raced the moment she turned and met his eye.

She was a Dumbledore. That would make her a hot piece on the Pureblood market. And the idea of possessing the heir of Dumbledore might be his ticket out of the bloody mess his brother had left behind for him to make up for.

_Sirius would not be so protective of her unless…_

His grin widened. A plan was forming in his mind, one that he could not wait to pull off.

From now on he would be keeping an eye on Miss Hermione Dumbledore…

* * *

**Review: Stab a guess at what makes Hermione's wand so special... Or if you love Crookshanks! **


	13. I: akin to routine

**Part 1: PRE-HOGWARTS**

**Chapter 13**

**akin to routine**

* * *

Albus Dumbledore sent her a letter officially welcoming her to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He also sent her a personal letter containing something Hermione had worn every day since. His mother's sapphire necklace was something his sister Ariana had also worn, and belonged to his father's mother before him. Hermione wore it above the key belonging to the strange Lady of Potter Manor that James had laced round her neck.

His parting words had been,

'_Do try to enjoy your last days of Summer Holiday, Hermione._

_I sense you yet have some misgivings about your part in the conflict we find ourselves in._

_And rest assure I am doing everything in my power to learn anything I can of your origins._

_Do not give in to the fears that you cling to._

_Rather enjoy this second chance that fate has given you._

_Rest in the peace the Potters so cherish._

_I look forward to seeing you very soon!_

_Your affectionate Uncle,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore'_

And ever since Hermione had received his letter, she had been growing more and more anxious for Hogwarts. Something about that place pulled at her soul, as though she knew even now it was going to be more home than school to her.

Despite Dumbledore's warnings she couldn't shake the feeling Diagon Alley had stirred up in her. From her strange meeting with Ollivander to the encounter with Dorea and Sirius' family and the signs of war looming everywhere, she couldn't shake the nervous energy that seemed to plague her. It was almost like being surrounded with things she knew she should know but for the life of her couldn't make anything out but wraiths haunting her mind.

Dorea had given Sirius and Peter an earful for their behavior at Diagon Alley and sent them on home, and threatened that if James had followed he'd very much regret it. She later told Hermione she was going to get as much use out of "her boys" as she could before the fall term started.

Dorea had provided Hermione with a new wardrobe of the latest Witch attire, robes and sundresses and winter dresses, slippers and boots and dress shoes. It had taken everything Hermione had to convince her to leave off some of the more outrageously priced ones.

Though she hadn't been able to keep the former Black from making her try on a set of dress robes Hermione thought too beautiful to be on her. She would never have agreed to it had Dorea not threatened to change some of her plainer robes for ones studded with jewels.

The last stop had been a run to Muggle London and a little lingerie shop Hermione was forced to buy all her new knickers and bra's from. "It is important to feel desirable and confident on the inside, you know," was Dorea's only blushing comment about the matter.

The following days were filled with something akin to a routine.

Mornings included the Marauders more often than not for breakfast where Dorea seemed the only voice of reason with Charlus encouraging the boys on and winking at Hermione as though she were part of some private joke. She had quickly learned that Charlus was not so immature as he played out to be most times. It was more of a game that they played, he teasing her and she reprimanding him in an age-old dance.

The first time any of them heard Hermione truly laugh was the morning Sirius sent a slice of butter just in Peter's trail. The smallest Marauder went sailing into the air with an, "Oi!" of outrage and knocked Remus in a tangled heap onto the floor.

The arrogant Black winked knowingly at Hermione while she hid her laughter behind her hand.

Yet when she turned to meet James' eye she found his face to be buried in the Daily Prophet, brow furrowed, eyes glancing between she and Sirius before returning to print. He had been increasingly silent the last few days, the more time Hermione spent around the Marauders. It was to her relief of course.

_I've been relying too much on him, ever since he found me. Can't expect him to wait on me hand and foot…_

Hermione bit her lip even while Remus lit in to Sirius about how dangerous leaving out a slice of butter could be, to which the tables other occupants only laughed harder. Sirius winked at Hermione, though she could see the concern barely masked in his sharp steel eyes.

Later on that same day, Hermione helped Dorea plant her newest row of roses in the garden. They were _Hermione Roses_ to her delight and in honor of the new addition to the family, Dorea said.

The feel of the sun on her olive skin, the way the earth felt beneath her fingers and the heady scent of the roses, all of it was like drinking in a fairy tale. Something about it all was so unreal to her, like a sweet dream one believes to be real only to wake to the horrifying reality.

These moments with Dorea were like equally surreal. During their daily routine, Dorea took to telling her the small things she would need to know as an up and coming Witch of high standing. Hermione learned this way just what the point such elaborate dinner sets were, and the proper decorum. She also learned all the juicy dark secrets of every Pureblood family. Dorea, as a former Black was nearly related in some way to them all. And as a former Slytherin she gave Hermione her knowledge as defense for anything she might face in the future.

"Why did Sirius leave his mum's house?"

Dorea barked a laugh at Hermione's question. "Oh my, don't you _remember_ meeting Walburga Black?"

She pressed the soil tighter round the base of the rose bush, stray curls falling into her eyes. "She seemed like she didn't deserve how Sirius treated her."

"Hmm…well, I suppose not. But then again you do not know how cruel some families can be. Often enough in our world it is the ones who have much that love the least. Everything comes with a price my dear."

Evenings at the Potter Manor were spent in the private parlor after dinner, where Charlus would tell them all stories of he and his father's exploits around the world. It would seem that Percival Potter was quite the world traveler. Soon she learned about each of the strange and wondrous collection displayed about the man-cave. Often times the Marauders would join in to "reenact" his exploits.

And once the grown ups went to sleep James would flash her his old grin and Sirius and Peter would drag her back outside to have some "real fun". James did not touch her, yet the look in his eyes grew more heated with each passing day.

Thus far they had tried to con her into playing three on two Quidditch, to which she said no, opting to watch.

A rainy day found them running in the middle of it, the boys wrestling each other into the mud. Hermione had managed to avoid it until Sirius took her down with him.

One interesting night they dragged her on to the roof of the manor to drink Firewhiskey's and shout out songs at the stars. She learned that Remus loved to watch his friends and join in the fun when he thought they didn't need him to be their anchor. That night he drank four Firewhiskey's.

Peter was the most friendly to Hermione and sometimes cornered her in the manor for a game of Wizarding Chess. The game frustrated her to no end till she pulled her thick curls into a frazzled mess. Pete promised to teach her till she aced it.

Yet there were other times Hermione couldn't find any of the Marauders and these were the days she spent visiting her favorite haunts about the house with the tiny orange fluff Crookshanks close at her heels. And these days she brought her mysterious wand out to practice her magic again.

The energy felt different than it had before. Each of her spells packed an even harder punch so that she found it far easier to perform them wandless and sometimes nonverbally. It came to the point she was almost afraid to use the ancient wand.

_If I can't use my wand how am I supposed to use magic at Hogwarts?_

She screamed and threw the offending wood across her balcony and into her room, satisfied to hear it chunk into the wood post of her bed. Stamping her feet and clenching her fists she bit back a scream…and a stream of curses.

Exhausted and with a mask of calm she walked over to the floor and picked up the singing wood, ignoring the pull and warmth immediately drawing from her fingertips and pulsing back beneath her skin. She pocketed the wood in the garter belt she had started using as a wand holster more than to hold up stockings. It seemed far more practical a use, in the case of an emergency.

"Hmph, much good that'll do you at this rate Hermione…" She grumbled to herself.

The silence of the manor was not quite so silent as she had believed. She paused in her grumbling and turned to the solid piano keys echoing throughout the house.

Opening her door she came down the steps to the second floor and frowned. The music was growing stronger…was it coming from the music room? James had only shown Hermione a glimpse of it. He'd never had the patience for learning any Muggle instruments, he said.

Her fingers slid down the old curved banister. She smiled at a House Elf that passed her by.

_Wispy, that's her name…_

The music was so beautiful…something stirred inside of her, until it seemed the keys echoed deeper and resonated with her soul. To her knowledge Hermione had never known or loved music before. She didn't think she could play any instrument and her one attempt to learn a Hobgoblins song from James and Sirius had ended with them in stitches and her cheeks beet red.

She was standing in front of the wide double doors and peering through the door crack before she knew it. Her brown eyes widened and quietly she stepped through the door, sending a silent thanks the House Elves routinely oiled all the hinges, magically of course.

The black baby grand piano sat at the center of the round room, windows composing a great portion of its walls at the corner of the house. Its lid had been turned up and Remus Lupin sat with his back to her playing the keys as though they were second nature. James had never mentioned Remus played. Yet Hermione couldn't explain away the deep surprise and shock she felt at what she was seeing.

She jumped when he said, "You can have a seat over here if you want, Hermione. I won't bite." He chuckled low at the last and she shivered lightly. When she didn't move he ducked his head to the side, glancing back at her from the corner of his eye, sandy blonde hair fallen into his gray eyes. "What's the matter? Didn't think us Marauders could have any other interests besides girls and pranks?"

She came to his side immediately and sat in the space he moved to allow her. Hesitantly she watched his fingers continue to move. "No. I know you're different from the others."

Though he didn't turn from the keys his eyes widened considerably. Softer, gruffer, "_Oh_?"

She smiled. "You look out for them, keep them in check."

His brow furrowed then, a contemplative grimace. "Not so often as I should I think."

"I would bet they owe a lot of their freedom for mischief from you…but I didn't know you could play." He grinned, seeming relieved somehow. In the growing dusky shadows his eyes gleamed an almost animal sheen and something itched at the back of Hermione's brain.

"Yeah, odd isn't it? My dad's the one who played. Thought I could use a bit more Muggle learning to go along with my magical studies. Turns out I had more talent for it than he expected. It's about the only thing we have to talk about now days."

Hermione's heart ached to hear him talk of family. As much as she felt adopted by the Potters, and protected by Dumbledore's name, she couldn't escape the feeling that she would likely never find her true parents again. Had she ever known them? Was she an orphan? Had Voldemort murdered them? She shivered, wrapping her arms round her chest.

"Your scent is different…" Remus murmured beneath his breath.

"What?"

His face colored, eyes riveted to the keys. "I've noticed something about you Hermione, ever since we met." He stumbled slightly over his words.

But now she wanted to know. Did he notice something? Something Dumbledore hadn't seen? Hope flared like a newly lit candle in her heart, only to be snuffed with his next words,

"That is, what I'm trying to say is…I think you're different too."

She laughed, almost bitterly. "Not surprising considering I have a magical block around my memories."

He finished his song and turned to face her with a calm yet piercing gaze. "No, it's not that, or maybe it is part of that. I can't place it…but I think you're different. And that's not such a bad thing you know." He offered her a half grin.

"No, I suppose it's not."

That day she learned Remus was staying the holiday with the Potters because his family had nearly hit rock bottom in the Muggle world. His mum was more involved in the War with You-Know-Who than she wanted him to know, and his father's health had been failing for years now.

She also learned that Moonlight Sonata was his favorite and at the same time least favorite piano piece of all time. And yet for her he played it again.

Meeting in the music room became routine for them the few days after, and she found Remus' company made her feel safe. He was calm compared to the others.

Yet it was then as she sat with Remus, thinking about her new friends that she realized Sirius and James had been missing every single day.

* * *

"What in the name of Merlin's Beard are we doing outside the Dirty Troll, Padfoot?" James rolled his eyes when Sirius covered his mouth with a firm hand, eyes fierce.

"Shh! Not so loud you prat! Don't want the whole neighborhood to hear you!"

James took in the dank alleyway they had found themselves in. Some neighborhood. It was an alley spun off the crux of Diagon and Knockturn, and so far he found little reason to visit Stubby Boardman _again_.

Sirius had finished checking the alley for eavesdroppers and grinned, eyes alight with mischief. "Come on, mate! Just one quick run in! And then we're through, yeah? I promised Stubby a favor after throwing Tom at him the other night."

James shook his head and sighed. "Fine, but we gotta run by Gambol and Japes still, remember?" Ever since the day Sirius' dark family had cornered Hermione in the middle of Diagon Alley he had been acting strange. James had been livid when Sirius grabbed Peter and ran into the middle of it when _he_ had been about to do the same thing. Remus held him back, reminding him it was better to sacrifice half the Marauders than them all go down at once.

He had been forced to watch on with clenched fists, feeling his magic ready to explode on the nearby brick wall. Remus' calming exercise was worth shit then.

Stubby Boardman annoyed the hell out of James. He looked eerily like Sirius, only scruffier and a few years older. His rip jeans hung too low on his hips.

_Way, way too low mate…_

And all he wore up top was something that might have once been a shirt and was held down by suspenders. His dark curling hair was past his shoulders and growing and probably hadn't been washed for days. The underground club reeked of the classic Muggle saying of sex, drugs and rock and roll.

"Oi! James fuckin' Potter!" Was Stubby's usual greeting.

James allowed the easy Wizard to pull him in to a man hug and pasted on his grin. "Hey Stubby."

"Here mate, this should more than make up for pretending poor Tom was your manager." Sirius handed the man a slip of paper and the rocker's eyes lit up.

"Her number! Sirius, you are _the man_! You are my fuckin' man! Anytime anyway you fuckin' want mate! Ha! Sweet Salazar that bint was too yummy to pass up!"

Sirius laughed. "Anything for an old mate. You _were_ the only one that got me through those horrid family holidays."

Stubby laughed. "Heard about what happened the other day with the Dragon, mate. Glad you gave Walburga hell. I hear they're all bent up about that one still! You oughta be careful though, mate. Damn dark times these are! You-Know-Who's on the lookout for someone to piss on."

Sirius nodded and began to back away towards the back door. "Well you let me know if you hear anything else, yeah?"

Stubby grinned and pointed with a straight arm. "Oh you got it mate! Anything for you cuz! See you later Potty!"

James shook his head and grinned. "See you later asshole."

Stubby only laughed and turned to the current groupie rushing up to his arm. "I love those guys!"

Was it possible he was a distant Black cousin? James had his doubts sometimes whatever Sirius insisted. Stubby was Halfblood, which to the Black family was like a piss on the family name.

Then again, James was technically related to Sirius too, and there were moments like these he wondered…

"You hear what he said?" Sirius jabbed as they made their way back into Diagon Alley.

"Actually I was trying _not_ to listen." James narrowed his eyes at their destination through his spectacle lens.

"You still don't take him seriously do you?"

James grinned at the hurt puppy look in Sirius' gray eyes. "It's hard for me to take a man who dresses and acts like that, seriously. No offence Pads."

Sirius strode faster to keep up with James' slightly longer legged stride. "Stubby has connections, Prongs. He hears things from both sides you know. And for your information I haven't only been dragging you here every day because I felt like a last minute shopping spree!" He waved his hands emphatically.

James offered a half grin at his best mate's desperate eyes. James knew Sirius was trying. It was rare that Padfoot took anything in life seriously, not that James could blame him. It hadn't been that long ago when he too could have cared less about anything beyond living in the moment. It had been the motto they agreed to all those years ago when they named themselves Marauders. Life was meant to be lived and had! But that was _before_ his Dad and Uncle Albus became targets for Death Eaters. That was _before_ Hermione Dumbledore fell out of the sky and into his life.

It was why the fact Sirius decided to carry them around Diagon Alley on a wild goose chase for her would-be-murderer was so disturbing.

James hadn't asked, but he hadn't been oblivious to the way Sirius watched Hermione.

In the beginning something that felt like a jealousy demon rose up inside of him to the point he was willing to smash his face into a wall. Sirius had made it his point to make Hermione laugh as often as possible and he hadn't ceased his flirting.

James joined in sometimes. After all it had been his wish to see her smile as much as he could, hadn't it? So what if it was because of his best friend? It was just like he told Sirius. _No one _was claiming her. She was gorgeous and it only made sense Sirius would sit up and notice. He'd be blind not to.

_You're only responsible for keeping her safe Prongs. No reason to get your knickers in a twist…_

Besides, he was still in love with Lily, wasn't he? It was a question he had only remembered to ask himself, or felt the _need_ to ask himself in that moment.

"Come on Prongs! Let's get those fireworks! Can't wait to see her face when we light up the sky with em! Pete should be working on setting things up and Remus promised to keep her distracted till her tea date with my beast of a Mum. I still can't believe Mummy P is letting her go alone!"

James frowned. He didn't like the idea of Hermione alone in a house of people connected to Voldemort any more than Sirius did. In fact if Sirius hadn't carted them off to Diagon Alley today he was more than ready to go spy out Number 24. Would she be safe? She had a wand again and during one early morning spin on his Nimbus he had spied her trying to use it.

Mum had been coaching her on high-shitting ways. He'd overheard his parents discussing it. She would be fine!

They had just crossed the busy street, filled with last minute Hogwarts bound shoppers and their families yet, when Sirius shouted. "Holy shit!"

James frowned, pulled out of his thoughts only to stare open mouthed at the sight before them.

Her blood red hair hung down her back in board straight locks, framing her perfectly porcelain skin set off by heart shaped lips and almond shaped green eyes. Lily Evans was boldly wearing her tight ripped Muggle jeans and trainers, a _Who_ shirt and was leaning in to Alice Greengrass' ear. The shorter pixie cut brunette laughed, shaking her head and was the first to spot the approaching Marauders.

Sirius laughed. "How fortuitous, yeah Prongs?" He laughed again at the sun struck look on his best mate's face.

Alice nudged Lily until a very familiar cross glare drew her brow together and her mouth twisted into a disgusted sneer.

_Still remembering the end of last term's attempt I see._

He grinned to himself. James had gone all out, so far as to con her out into the Quidditch Pitch after hours, spelling her name in the sky with fireworks, which happened to rush back and attack her on accident, a bouquet of lilies and even a bloody _song_.

She had _Confringo'd_the flowers and fireworks, and _laughed_ at the song before declaring once and for all she would rather drop dead than date _him_.

Sirius had finally declared her a lost case.

James had been unwilling to give up. Even now his feet carried them closer to the stunned Witches. Alice was whispering furtively into Lily's ear and the taller Witch's features darkened, or rather reddened.

James tried to smile, tried to jump onto the street and spout off sonnets with Sirius at his side like they used to. He tried to summon the internal jumping fireworks that usually set off at the sight of scarlet hair.

Instead he and Sirius paused three paces in front of them and shoving his hands in his pockets he nodded to them both. "Hey Evans, Greengrass. Last minute run eh?"

Alice laughed nervously. "Em, yeah, hello Potter. Fancy seeing you two."

Lily crossed her arms in front of her chest, obviously waiting for the next embarrassing Marauder pass.

Sirius wasted no time in working his charm. "Fairest Lily and the sweet Greengrass! Why haven't either of you returned my letters all summer!" He pounded his chest and sank to one knee. "You cut me to the quick dear ladies!"

Alice giggled into her hand, her pale blue eyes flickering back between Lily and James. "Hello Sirius."

Lily rolled her eyes and said, "Still making an arse of yourself Black?"

Sirius jumped to his feet and casting one last curious glace to James came between both girls and wrapped his arms round their shoulders. "Now, now ladies, no need to shower _me_ with such docile tones!"

Lily sniffed. "The only thing you'll be hearing Black is the hex I invented _especially_ for you two."

"_Sigh..._if only we had known you would be here sooner! We could have made a double date of it! Yeah, James?"

Lily gaped at him, horrified and Alice giggled. Had James been paying attention to Lily Evans, self proclaimed love-of-his-life, he would have found her puzzled glances his way growing with frustration and shock. This was possibly the most silent he had ever been around the Gryffindor Princess.

Instead he could help thinking as he looked Lily nearly eye level,

_I never realized how short Hermione was. She barely reaches my shoulders._

"James?"

"What's the matter with him?" Alice glanced up at Sirius.

James' scowl deepened as he remembered Hermione was…

_**So perfect…**_

_**He brought her hand to wrap round his neck and with a strong arm reached to grasp her waist with a trembling arm. Her eyelids fluttered, and for one blessed moment their breath mingled in the cool night air...**_

"Oi! Prongs!" Sirius was growing impatient. Lily shoved him away from his casual embrace. He sent a knowing glare her way that she pretended to ignore.

James blinked and suddenly grinned. "Oh, sorry Padfoot. Guess I drifted off again didn't I?"

Lily snarked, "Just like you do in Professor Flitwik's class."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Not hard to do that."

James grinned, a bit of the old Marauder hinted in the tilt of his chin. "Charms isn't quite as exciting as Quidditch."

Alice nodded. "Oh I know! It isn't is—ouch!"

Lily nudged her best friend sharply in the ribs, green eyes fierce. "Don't encourage them Alice!"

"I wasn't encouraging them…" She mumbled.

Sirius leaned into Lily's personal space. "I could think of a few ways to make you more…_encouraging_, Lily love."

Lily rolled her eyes.

James frowned. _What's wrong with me?_

For the first time since Fourth year, James Potter felt _nothing_ when he looked into the eyes of Lily Evans except for a rush of memory. And the realization struck him like he had fallen off the roof of his house in the dead of winter.

Sudden desperation was what caused him to call out with relief at the sight of Frank Longbottom. "Oi! Longbottom! Long time no see mate! Been at Gambol and James, yeah? Mind coming along for another run with me?"

Frank's eyes were fixed on the anxious eyes of Alice Greengrass but he offered James a wry grin. "Sure thing Potter. Long as you promise not to include me or Alice in this year's Marauder pranks."

At that point, James felt willing to agree to anything. He turned his head. "Coming Padfoot?"

Sirius had a shit eating grin, the kind James didn't care to investigate this time. He was too troubled to notice the sky falling at that point.

He didn't see Lily stare after him with open mouthed amazement and didn't hear Sirius tip his fingers to her in salute with a wink. "Well hasn't this been pleasant! Just had to see something for myself, Lily love…"

"Oh sod off!" She huffed, and Sirius certainly didn't miss the last glance she gave Prongs before turning her heel and pulling Alice away. "Come on."

Sirius laughed to himself, his suspicions at last confirmed. And yet he had the feeling _his_ troubles were only beginning.

* * *

**Review: Is James still in love with Lily?**


	14. I: illumination

**A/N: So thankful to everyone who has read and reviewed, old and new alike! It's always a joy to hear your thoughts and I try to respond to each of you when I can. To everyone who wanted an update sooner than later this is for you lol. As reward the longest one yet! **

**Hope you enjoy Hermione's story as much as I do!**

**E**

* * *

**Part 1: PRE-HOGWARTS**

**Chapter 14**

**illumination**

* * *

"More tea dear?" Her red painted, thin lipped smile pulled tight over her white teeth in a way that made Hermione think of a predator trying not to frighten its prey.

"Yes please." She proffered her cup and watched the Lady Black's lace gloved hands tip the fine china. The silver and green patterns swirled in constant motion on the bowl of the pot, slithered up the curved handle. Hermione smiled politely, ankles crossed, knees together, hands resting gently in her lap and silently thanked Dorea for every gruesome hour of training. She couldn't quite master the role of Pureblood aristocrat, but any mention of her unconventional upbringing about Britain, Dorea assured would erase such questions. She was the "niece" of Dumbledore after all. It was to be expected he would raise her differently than the preferred Pureblood pedigree. Not knowing how she would be accepted in the Wizarding world, or what she would face, Hermione was willing to do anything to be fully prepared. And that included the loathsome task of befriending the enemy.

She had considered owling Dumbledore about the matter, but Dorea insisted her guardian would more than approve. What better way for Hermione to discover her past than to try every venue? As Dorea concluded, "_Besides, this way all the Pureblood families will be concerned with is whether or not you'll accept their sons' letters of proposal_."

The House of Black was smaller than the Potter Manor, yet even more opulent with a different sort of grandeur. This was wealth at its most sickening. Every furnishing, though ancient gleamed in the candle and lamplight. Though windows had been open to let in the sun, Hermione couldn't shake the feeling she was sitting in a prison rather than a front parlor. All furnishings were decorated with green and silver of some sort, the colors of Slytherin…and the very thought of the Hogwarts House brought an unwanted rush of endless texts. She had begun to grow accustomed to the rush. Rather than gasping for breath now she blinked past the blur until her vision no longer swam. Walburga hadn't missed a beat, ushering her young visitor through the most ancient and noble house. Yet Hermione couldn't shake the disturbing feeling of being watched by invisible eyes, or the rage she felt the moment she glimpsed the long row of petrified house elf heads lining the staircase. The house closed round her while Walburga drew her in further. She felt the brush of Dark Magic in everything she touched. It seared past her skin and crept bout her bones, invasive, coldly searching her to be something it recognized.

After half past the first hour Hermione learned she was a damn fine actor. It did help that everything out of her mouth seemed to please Walburga Black _a.k.a the dragon._ Thus far Walburga had asked her all the polite questions without being _too_ nosy. And now they had moved on to the annoyingly extensive subject of her son.

"I do so wish my darling Regulus could have joined us for tea today!" she gushed as she poured herself a third cup. Her eyes sparkled with fresh excitement as she noted the glimmer of interest in Hermione's amber orbs. "He seemed quite taken with you yesterday as I recall." Peering still through her lowered lashes the Lady Black dropped two sugars into her cup.

Hermione inclined her head, just so and answered, "Truly? I am surprised to learn this." Sipping her tea allowed her time to catch Walburga's quick grin.

"Oh yes! Indeed, he was the one who insisted we introduce ourselves to you. Darling Regulus has always been able to perceive the truest beauty in a sea of dirty filth you know. Ever since he was a small boy he helped me tend to my garden, roses in particular. He never cried when pricked by a thorn, and I dare say worried more for the state of the rose than his finger."

Hermione couldn't help her interest though the subject of Sirius' brother was getting old. Still, she couldn't forget the younger Black, or the sapphire eyes he shared with his cousin and the way they pierced through to something Hermione was still searching.

"—and I am certain he will make a fine match one day, if he ever finds a Witch to love him as fiercely as he is capable of loving."

_Love?_

Hermione's eyes widened with surprise. "And I assume the match must come from a fine family as well?"

Walburga sat back in her chair, chin raised slightly. "Nothing is too good for my Regulus. Why should you young folk only seek the alliance of bloodlines if not your hearts as well?" For a moment her mask faltered and Hermione, to her surprise, found something she had not expected from _the Dragon_ of the Marauder's tales.

Softly she asked, "What of your own alliance, if I may be so bold to ask?"

Walburga never met her eye, but pursed her red painted lips together and black brow arching answered. "Duty to House and family comes above all things Miss Dumbledore, and often times that includes love. This is something most of your generation seems to have forgotten. Yet this is why a change of our society has become a necessity. And I hope that you will not forget your duty my dear." Her eyes lifted at last to rest on the sapphire necklace resting on Hermione's throat before meeting her eyes.

Hermione was struck by the weariness in those eyes and this rare glimpse of the true face of Walburga Black. Was this the purity obsessed cynical critical woman Sirius once described for her? Was Walburga really so different from Dorea or was it rather circumstances that had made the younger Black matron what she had become? And she felt compassion for what she saw and answered, "I promised my Uncle I wouldn't let him down and I will not breath that promise."

Her answer pleased Walburga, for her mask was in place immediately after and with a shrill voice, "How lovely it is to hear you say so! Now, you must tell me Hermione, as we women must stick together and consult one another about such things, have any of the young men caught your eye?" The question was innocent enough, were it not for the gleam in _the Dragon_'s eyes.

She laughed lightly. "Oh no. I don't think so. If there are it is a surprise to me." Yet her smile faltered even then and she couldn't shake the memory of _his _hands tight against her skin and the fevered intent in his hazel eyes…

Dorea smiled and placed her cup on the table, hands in her lap. "I see…I had wondered since you were staying with my cousin…but I am certain your situation will change once you are in Hogwarts and the young men have the chance to see your charms! The letters will simply come piling in then and my darling Regulus will be certain to help you hold any unwanted suitors off!"

Hermione set her cup down as well and blinked surprise for as though on cue the front door creaked open and shut with a resounding **'BANG'** and a shadowed figure stepped the hall.

"Ah! Regulus darling is that you?"

The steps paused at the landing and Hermione wrung her hands atop her ivory sundress-fashioned robes. "Just a moment mother," answered the low voice.

Hermione realized Walburga's eyes were trained on hers with a polite smile. "Has this not been lovely my dear? We shall have to schedule another afternoon for the holidays! Kreacher!"

Hermione was trying to think of a non committal answer, deciding she most definitely did not want to set foot in this bleak house _ever_ again, when the ancient hunched Elf appeared before them. Hermione had not yet met a House Elf so old as this one, or one with such a present foreboding in his manner.

"Clear this table at once." Walburga commanded with a heavy and superior air that her House Elf merely bowed low in response.

"Yes Mistress…Kreacher lives to serve the noble and most ancient house of Black." Lifting a tiny hand he peered up at Hermione as he snapped his fingers and she shivered at the dark intent of that gaze. Dishes and Elf disappeared with his '**SNAP**' though Hermione still stared moments after.

"Mother? You wanted to see me?" Regulus stood at the center of the parlor doorway, hands clasped behind his back, and somehow he managed to remain in the shadows just shy of sun and lamp light. Yet his eyes gleamed silvery blue in the darkness and Hermione felt once more curiously drawn to them.

"Why yes darling I do. Miss Dumbledore and I were just finishing our tea and I simply mustn't delay my reply to the Supreme Witches Society another second. Do forgive this sudden intrusion but duty calls! Regulus, I wanted to take Hermione on a quick tour of the house just now. Do you think you could show her about instead?"

Hermione froze and though she couldn't tell for sure, she knew Regulus' eyes had turned to her. She could almost see the smirk in his tone. "Of course mother."

"How lovely!" Walburga chattered on little more in her high nasal tone before practically flying out of the parlor and up the flight of dark stairs just beyond the door.

He was staring at her, leaning against the side of the door while she clutched her fingers together and wondered how she hadn't foreseen this mess. She bit her lip.

_If James or Sirius were here now…_

She wanted to laugh at the thought. There was no question what would have happened were they there. Should she offer some shitting excuse and make a quick run for it?

_Now would be the time Hermione…_

She opened her mouth, excuse in hand and already feeling relief at the prospect of leaving this stuffy prison of a house.

"You look different," he said softly and called Hermione's surprise to his shadowed figure.

"Oh?" She answered.

_Oh? That's all you can say? Come on you twat, remember what you're here for!_

"You had a charm on your hair yesterday. I like the way it is now loads better."

She was caught of guard. "Why?" She couldn't help but to ask.

"I don't know. That lions mane suits you better is all and makes better sense. You are living in a house of _Gryffindor's _after all."

She stood then, fists clenched at her side with a sudden need to assert herself and to defend the Potters.

_How dare he speak of them as though they were a disease to be cured?_

"Are you going to take me on this tour or not?"

He chuckled. "My pleasure Miss Dumbledore."

Once she met him Hermione realized how tall he was once more. Far taller than his brother, taller than _James_ even. Yet he didn't use his height to intimidate her and kept his hands clasped behind his back at all times.

"I'll make this simple as I may Miss Dumbledore." He began as they walked side by side down the silent hall. And lifting a hand pointed to the open doorways they passed. "Sitting room, library, kitchens, guest rooms." The tour was done in a matter of seconds. He paused at the center of the hall and Hermione tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. Once more she saw the burden carried within them, though they seemed to shine in the nearby candlelight with amusement. His lips quirked into a crooked grin.

"That's it? That's your _grand tour_?"

His grin widened. "Well I take it Mum's had you holed up here far longer than you'd have any desire to be. So unless you care to see the _glorious _tapestry of the _noble most ancient house of Black_ you should make your escape now. I'll offer her whatever excuse you like. Won't stop her from trying to steal you away though, you know."

Hermione's eyes widened at how easily he saw through her even as she shivered at the recollection of afore mentioned tapestry that flittered past her mind's eye. She couldn't remember being in this house before, but the memories had come this time not from the text pages of a book, but an entire _wall._

What else did Regulus know? Were his words not all encompassing and completely true she might have thought to stay longer anyhow to find out.

"The door is this way." He motioned with an upturned palm and inclined head. All the while his eyes watched her carefully.

Hermione nodded and smiled. "I suppose Dorea will be looking for me soon." He waited until she took the first step and then they were walking side by side once more. The slim hall revealed her escape and she was quite ready to take it. Yet something within her felt compelled to turn to him just as his hand grasped for the door's handle that made him pause. "You know, you're not at all like your brother."

His strong jaw tightened. "You mean I'm not a bullying, self absorbed arse?"

Hermione smiled at the truth of Regulus' description and tilted her head to catch a better glance at him. "No that's not what I meant."

"What is it then? Not so handsome as him? As intelligent? I'm sure he's made obvious his many superior qualities." He laughed through the last bit.

"No, that's not it either! Will you let me get a bloody word in you git? You..._care_ about things. That's all. You're good." Though Hermione wasn't certain what in _hell_ possessed her to say any of it. She wouldn't have said it if it weren't somehow important she assured herself.

_Albus told you to make connections in unexpected places, that's all this is…_

Turning towards the yet unopened door she noticed his knuckles white on the doorknob.

She didn't see his wide blue eyes staring in wonder down at her, and couldn't have known that she had just surprised Regulus Arcturus Black, who was _never_ surprised about _anything _anymore.

He pulled open the door and so quietly she nearly missed it, "How does James Potter manage to have _everything_ literally fall at his feet?"

Hermione did not yet know of his suspicions or his plans for her yet. But his words did cause her to turn and look up at him curiously. Once again she stood in the early evening sunlight and he managed to cling to shadow, yet the light caught his eyes. And his voice seemed to come low and dark as though at a distance. "You know, whatever Sirius may tell you, we Slytherin's aren't all bad."

She smiled thoughtfully. "I think it's better to judge people for their character rather than their House, don't you?"

He grinned, shaking his head again with surprise for this intriguing Witch. "Maybe I'll take you up on your advice one day soon. Good evening Miss Dumbledore."

Hermione smiled. "Goodbye Mr. Black."

The moon was growing in the velvety sky, yet the stars still drowned the blackness until not a space was left un-jeweled.

* * *

James stared long as he could without blinking and as well as he could might without his spectacles. Yet the longer he stared the clearer his vision became. He'd learned last time he went for a dip in the pond not to wear them in the water. That disaster had ended with Sirius accidentally knocking them off his nose and to the bottom of the ten foot deep.

He lay atop the water now, warmed slightly from one of the hottest days they'd had so far this summer. There wasn't a season or type of weather he hadn't dared a dip in the natural pond save when it was froze over of course. Sometimes he let the Marauders come with him, but generally it was _his_ place, a place he came to think and clear his head.

_Or to forget…_

He frowned as his vision blurred and cleared, starlight fading in and out of focus.

Seeing Lily had changed things, in what way he still wasn't certain of. But rather in the knowing somehow _he_ had changed. No matter how hard he tried to organize his thoughts in a way akin to Remus, James couldn't get _her_ out of his thick head.

_She's not yours to think about you prat! It's not her fault you've finally lost it!_

How could something be undone in a few days that had sprouted into an all-consuming monster over years? Even if the building _had_ been only on his part, there was no explanation for how he felt about Lily Evans now.

James Potter had claimed before to live in the moment. On the outside he appeared to think about his actions about as much as Sirius. But he didn't favor being caught off guard and seeing Lily without feeling _anything_ had felt like an ambush.

_Hermione_… Hadn't he told Sirius to stay away from her? He wanted to protect her. He'd wanted to protect her since the moment he first saw her bloodying up his yard, her hands reaching out to him, clasping round his neck for the first time.

The second time had been far different so that he wondered what would have happened if not for that bloody motorcycle…He shut his eyes and steeled his resolve.

_You're taking advantage of her Jamie-boy and you knew it all along._

Yet for a moment all he could think of was the way her bare skin looked in the lamplight, the way the wind made her blink and amber eyes slightly tear up, the way his arm had fit so perfectly around her waist…

"_James_?"

He frowned. The voice was distant, echoing beneath the water. He blinked but could see no one.

"James?" The next stream of words was muffled, but his mind was wide-awake now. And his Hermione radar was way off the sanity charts by this point.

He groaned inwardly.

_It _**_would _**_be her…bloody hell…_

He twisted until he was kicking upright within the water and turned to find the outline of a bushy mane of hair that was unmistakably _her_. He grinned, swam closer, until her features against the rock were more defined. His vision suddenly seemed better and his grin widened. Just as suddenly he forgot everything he had been thinking about before.

Her fists were gripping the jutting rock for dear life and the ivory sundress looked silvery in the dim moonlight, her curls pulling away from her glorious form. "Sorry to interrupt your solitude." She ducked her head and bit her lip and his easy grin fell, eyes lingering on her lips... "I didn't know this was your place."

He blinked the water from his eyes. "Have you been coming here then?"

"Some nights, yes."

He didn't like that he couldn't see her features clearly, could only read her by the tone of her voice. And found himself even more torn when he realized it sounded so husky and-_Merlin help him_-damn sexy.

_Get a grip, man!_

He answered at last, "I come here when I need to think sometimes. But I share it with the Marauders and they're a right rung below you, love."

"Thanks for lending it to me." Her features were shadowed with the moon at her back, yet he could hear her smile. She was silent for a few moments, to the point James felt he might burst. Finally, she said, "You weren't at dinner tonight."

_Oh…_his stomach plummeted. Would she ever suspect it had to do with her? "Yeah, pawned a bite off Wispy earlier…"

She seemed hesitant. "I haven't seen you round very much the past few days either."

He couldn't help his grin or the sudden flames building with the thought, forbidden as he had sworn it was. Trying to sound every bit as confident as he wished he felt, he asked, "Miss me that much, love?"

She scoffed, "No! I have had plenty of company, thank you very much."

"Really? Who? The Black Dragon?" James was still amazed at his power of restraint. He had nearly apparated right to Grimmauld after the Lily disaster with a mind to escort Hermione home from that wicked place.

"_Sigh…_she isn't the monster Sirius thinks she is. Just brain washed by generations with notions of blood supremacy. But most of our conversation was about her son, _darling Regulus!_" He laughed aloud at her perfect imitation. "And how I should be sure to look to him for any help getting around Hogwarts. She also believes I have a high chance of getting in to Slytherin, whatever that means…"

Darkly he countered, "It means training to be a little Death Eater." In the ensuing silence his thoughts turned even darker and he remembered the reason Hermione needed him in the first place.

**_He reached out, intending to scoop her up in his arms without delay. She looked such a slight thing as it was. He didn't think she would wake again. She had lost so much blood_**_…_

"James, do you think I'm like them?"

He frowned, jerked away from his memories. "Like who?"

"Like Walburga and Regulus—like the rest of your mum's family? So many times today I felt it. Like I could be like them. Do you think I was on their side and that's why they're trying so hard to befriend me?"

It took every ounce of self-control he had not to lash out and his voice shook from restraint and passion. "Hermione, _you_ are as different from them as I am. You're the _truest_ soul I've ever known. And whatever shite you're inclined to believe, I _know_ you'll see the truth one day soon."

"But what if we never learn the truth? There are a million things I could have done in my past that we'll never know about, all because I'll never _remember_ them again!"

He swam closer and his feet touched the muddy bottom. "I know you don't believe that. But if you plan on actually enjoying your life anytime soon…" He paused, and grinned. _She's gonna kill me…_ He reached up and grabbed her waist. "You need to stop thinking so much and learn to enjoy it!"

"_Ahhh_! Put me down! James! James! **_No_**! _N_-" Her sounds were muffled with her ensuing dunk at the center of the lake.

James laughed heartily for the first time in days and stroked over to meet the hands flailing just above the water. He laughed harder when her head popped above the pond covered by a wet mop of her dark curls.

She gasped, "Oh you're in _for-_" and sank once again.

Finding her waist easily, James pulled her back towards the shore until he could stand with his shoulders above water again. He couldn't stop laughing even as she literally crawled up onto him, legs wrapping round his waist and arms round his neck as she coughed water from her lungs and fought for breath.

"You-arse! You're gonna-pay for that! Your mum just-bought me this dress!" Her hair was still covering her face and James had to use both hands to lift it and brush it past her forehead. "You didn't even know if I could swim or not! What if I can't swim? Did that thought even cross your brain? And what if there are snakes in this blasted thing?" Her glare only made his grin widen and he gladly supported her ass with two hands.

He didn't dare hope he had more than imagined how she shivered at his firm touch. "Sorry love, you looked overheated." In that moment, with her eyes lit like flames, her features slightly blurred to impressionism, her wet body wrapped round his, James felt as though the flames inside him might burst.

He burned, _she_ burned like cool fire against his skin. Every accidental tough was like wildfire thrumming his veins.

His breath hitched when she dug her heels into his ass for support, breasts veiled by only her clothing and brushing against his upper chest.

He couldn't remember the last time he had held a Witch in his arms and knew he'd never held one so close as this. He'd never wanted to hold any other save one. And now he had to know why it was _this _Witch that made his words stutter and his head spin.

In fact, he couldn't remember a moment since he had first caught sight of her that she didn't make his heart race so fast he thought it would explode. And he knew it wasn't just because of her wet body plastered to his.

Her eyes drew him in until he couldn't breathe or wipe the stupid grin off his face.

_Come on Prongsie! Think clearly around her for once!_

She grimaced. "Your mother won't be happy about the dress."

"Guess I'll have to think of some way to pay you back for it then, won't I?"

Her frown wavered at the wag of his eyebrows and she smacked his shoulder blade. With a twist of her mouth and scrunch of her nose, she said, "Git."

"Snob."

"Stubborn arse!"

"Doxy mouth!"

Her lips twitched. "Spoiled brat."

His face splitting grin widened. He opened his mouth to answer, but the only word that came to mind slipped out, "Beautiful…"

Her large brown eyes widened, so dark they seemed black and fathomless, her fingers tensed against his bare skin. His tightened and with the overwhelming headiness that he couldn't shake, with the taste of wild magic on his tongue and the temptation of her parted lips, he leaned in…

Nervously and with a higher pitch, "_Don't_ you think we should find out what the boys are up to?"

James froze, jaw clenched with restraint. His brow darkened at the mention of the _boys_ who had been occupying her attentions the last several days. "Not really." His half blind eyes searched her features. Just as certain he had been in keeping a distance to better protect her, now he wanted _them_ to keep the distance.

"Well I am certain they will be wondering where we've got off to, won't they?" Her words faded to a whispered hush caught by the wind.

A sardonic grin tilted his mouth and he breathed deep to grab hold of himself. She was too close for his body not to react. Roughly, he admitted, "At this point I couldn't care more than a herd of centaurs. What's wrong with my company anyways?" He quirked a brow and flexed his arms against her back.

"N-nothing…well, other than the fact you coerced me into a midnight swim."

"And don't you feel galleons better for it?"

With a roll of her eyes, she replied, "Not when I can't stop thinking about all the things we can't see in this filthy water."

"You need to learn to enjoy it love. Stop thinking so much!" He couldn't help his grin or his sudden tilt into an easy backstroke.

"Ah! What are you doing! James I don't know if I can swim!" She pressed willingly to him now and he kept them both afloat with ease.

"Stop jabbering on and kick your legs a bit!"

She glared at him and even though he ached to push her away, she let him take her hands and place them on his shoulders and slowly build the space between them. Panic filled her voice and the water sloshed about in waves beneath his feet. "James? Don't you dare let go of me!"

He laughed. "Not for all the magic in the world."

After a few more awkward moments of Hermione trying to steady herself she began to grow in confidence though her hands never left his shoulders. This was perfectly fine with him of course. And then the glorious moment when she looked up at him, staying afloat and her mouth spread into a wide lovely grin.

"Guess I can swim after all!"

"Merlin's beard! She didn't drown!" He grinned when she swatted his shoulder blade in retort. "So…you did miss me then?"

"What?" Her long lashes shadowed her lowered eyes as she concentrated on not kicking his legs. "What are you talking about?"

"You were complaining earlier about my being absent lately. I was just hoping it meant you missed all this perfection." He pasted on a confident grin, the sort that would have sent Lily Evans in a fit of _Pureblooded-arrogant-prat_ comments.

Hermione met his eye steadily, a slow smile starting at the corners of her full mouth. "You know I _can_ look after myself too, James. I don't need you to hold my hand."

He hesitated, steeling his nerve and brow furrowed, "But what if I _want_ to hold your hand?"

She frowned, legs stilled in the water. He could stand on the bank once more and her body began to drift closer to his once more. "James…_sigh_…I don't think…"

'**_BOOM'_**

Hermione jerked in his arms, rigid, her legs wrapping round his waist. His arms held her closer, even though he knew what she was seeing while he watched her horrified expression.

Surely enough he sky exploded above them with a shower of emerald sparks and distant laughter echoed it.

"What was _that_?"

He groaned as she shifted in his arms and tried to turn it into a strained laugh. "They're called fireworks, love. Shall we have a look? They were _supposed_ to wait for you. Sirius couldn't wait though I bet, the toerag…" He grumbled and without another word began to trudge out of the water carrying his Witch with him. He marveled at how light she was, much as the first time he'd carried her.

Keeping one arm locked tightly around her waist, he leant over to snatch first his shirt and then broom. Hermione's arm extended and found his spectacles. Stretching back upright he froze to suddenly feel her slip them on over his nose and ears. Vision suddenly cleared, he grinned to see her soft smile and feel her fingers try to smooth down his wet hair. Her mouth twisted into a frown as it repeatedly insisted on sticking up on top of his head.

"Oh bugger it…" She grumbled with a soft grin. Her eyes widened when he began to ease onto his broom and jump into the air. "James?" She pressed against his chest, legs wrapping tighter and he laughed. "You won't be able to see!"

He tucked his chin until against her ear, "Just hang on to me, love. Oh, and hope they don't set off any more fireworks before we get there." Both froze at the sound of more whoops and hollering from the nearby forest.

"Fly fast then!" She buried her face into his chest.

He laughed, "As you wish!" and they became one with the air.

Flying had always given him time to think. It was the one time he wasn't constantly surrounded by his brothers, or being nagged by his well-meaning Mum. And he could almost pretend he wasn't destined to become _Lord Potter_ one day.

And now it was near bloody impossible to think! Not with _her_ wrapped up in him!

_Maybe tossing her into the pond wasn't such a good idea…_

He had to stop and think before he lost it. Which wouldn't be easy. He was starting to acknowledge she had that effect on him.

_Focus on breathing, mate…you're meant to protect her not cop a feel you son of a hippogriff!_

James felt that he had learned something in the short time he had spent with Hermione this night. Though was still distantly confused about his feelings for Lily, he knew one thing for certain. He couldn't stay away from Hermione after tonight, after _touching her_, even if he had no right to want her. His body's reaction was evidence of just how much he _did_ want her, whether he admitted it to himself or not.

_Thank Godric she hasn't noticed! That would put things on a whole new level, mate…_

Shaking his head to clear his randy thoughts, James realized they were already there.

The clearing was the same as the first night Dad had taken him "camping" as a small boy. They used to lie under the stars those nights, while Charlus taught him all the constellations and what the Muggles had just done on the moon.

Sirius was bent over the ground with his wand aimed at the fireworks stick. "Piece of shit rubbish…"

"Padfoot just light it already!" Remus had already cleared back several paces, wand aimed at his own firework.

"Almost got it!" Sirius called out. "Wait for it I go—_shit_!" The rocket exploded in his face with a puff, **_pop_** and cloud of black smoke coating his skin. He had fallen promptly to his ass and his fury.

"See that's what happens when you stand too close you arse!"

"Sod off Moony!" Sirius coughed smoke out of his lungs.

James shook his head and Hermione finally let loose the laughter causing her to shake in his arms as she leapt off the edge of the broom.

Sirius whirred round with wide eyes.

Peter laughed as he chugged his Butterbeer beside the picnic area they had set up. "Hermione! You were supposed to be asleep when we kidnapped you!"

James left his Nimbus to rest in the grass and slipped his Chudley Cannons shirt over his head. "How you managed to get around Mum's rules I don't wanna know. After last holiday's disaster I thought she'd never let me light a stick again."

Sirius had righted himself and jogged over, frowning at Hermione who was still laughing. "Oi! It wasn't that funny!"

"Oh yes it was! You look like you jumped in the middle of a game of exploding snaps!" She countered through her giggles.

James grinned smugly at her slightly condescending tone, not noticing the look his best friend kept giving the both of them. Crossing his arms over his chest he cocked his head to the side and said, "Serves you right for starting without us!" Hermione grinned up at him which only served to puff him up more.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Well we couldn't just hope everything would work itself out! Not that _you_would know about it with your little…" he waved his hand about, eyes roving over their drenched state, "clandestine midnight _swim_!" Had to have a test run! Even Moony here agreed with me!"

When James turned a hard eye to the tall Werewolf, Remus merely shrugged and offered a soft grin to Hermione. "Sorry Prongs. It was either this or be dragged to the Dirty Troll again."

James shook his head but couldn't help his grin at the hapless look on Padfoot's face. They both had been known in the past for dealing in ultimatums. A side affect of Pureblood upbringing, they called it. Though it had given James no end of trouble in asking Witches to Hogsmeade dates in the past. Most bints didn't favor being told to either go out with them or never find another bloke who would dare face the Marauder's wrath.

Sirius's eyes gleamed when he recognized his friend's train of thought.

Peter was singing a bad version of the latest underground Hobgoblin song, _Don't Be Witching Me_. Remus had turned back to focus on positioning his row of magic fireworks. And James froze when he recognized the sudden change in Sirius' demeanor.

In that moment the dark haired Pureblood practically danced over to them, eyes fixed on Hermione. Casting a knowing glance up at James he wrapped an arm about Hermione's wet shoulders. "Hermione, you look a bit chilled, love."

"Honestly I'm fine." She frowned when he cast a drying spell over her anyway and proceeded to guide her back to his row of craters. "You shouldn't have wasted your energy. Why not cast a cleansing spell on yourself instead?"

James nearly laughed aloud but Sirius was not to be dissuaded and, for the moment, James was willing to see what his friend would try next.

"What? You know this is your favorite of my colognes Hermione."

"What would that be? Ode to dragon?"

Remus laughed quietly to himself and James twisted round to face him, but not before narrowing his eyes at the pair one last time. Shrugging off his irrational fears, James grabbed a handful of his own mischief and turned back to help Remus after catching on to his patterns. "So this is gonna be some big shit."

Remus looked up from the dirt and grinned with the quiet mischief that made him a true Marauder. "Hell yeah."

James laughed, but was stilled when the sound of Hermione's laugher echoed from the other end of the field. He didn't realize he still held his load of weaponry in his arms, or that his expression was decidedly worried.

"You know he's only trying to get a reaction from you?"

Surprise tore his attentions back to Remus who remained focused on his task, nose to the ground. "What?" With his cheesiest, easy-going grin he plopped onto the grass opposite. "We talking about Sirius' attempts to get laid or Pete's lack of musical talent?"

"Oi!" Pete grumbled while popping open his third bottle and thus resuming his horrid serenade.

James' grin widened. "Keep practicing Wormtail!" He wagged his eyebrows at Remus good-naturedly. And Remus only paused to settle a hard-eyed no-nonsense glare. It was the sort James hated. The sort that made him call Remus _Professor_ sometimes because it was eerily akin to Dumbledore…and because it pissed the Werewolf off. "What's the problem Professor?"

Remus shook his head and turned to where Hermione and Sirius were both laughing and trying to keep the firework stick steady. "He's been worried about you, you know."

James' grin was becoming harder to maintain. Inside he was already a nervous wreck. "Worried about Quidditch or whether we'll finally give Snivellus his this year?" His quick laugh sounded flat to his ears. They had hated Severus Snape from the beginning, long before Lily Evans caught his eye. Though how someone so gorgeous and normal as her could give that rat the time of day neither James nor Sirius could let go. She alone remained firmly by the Slytherin's side while the Snake began a war with them that had lasted ever since.

She alone of all the Hogwarts female populous insisted on loathing the Marauders when _clearly_ they were the strongest weapon the Light had! James began to find himself obsessing because he was convinced Lily Evans couldn't know everything her best friend was up to behind closed doors. She was a Gryffindor, which gave him enough reason in the beginning to seek out her safety. His crush developed later that same year when he feared for her safety. And after all, what better way to prove to her Snivellus' true colors than expose her to Marauder charms?

James hadn't ever told the boys the true reason he had been interested in Lily Evans. He doubted they would have believed him if he had. Monogamous as he could be in his devotions James was no less recognized as one of the two most womanizing Wizards of the school. Yet this wasn't about Lily Evans anymore. She would take care of herself fine without him, in fact he was certain she preferred it.

_But Hermione…_

James didn't realize Remus had been watching his emotions dance across his expressive face, though he couldn't miss the growing glare from under his mess of sandy hair. "Are you really that thick or is this trying to throw me off your scent?"

_Damn you Moony and that damned sixth Werewolf sense of yours!_

Remus leant upon his turned up knee then, coiled silent tension James had seen plenty of times fully realized under the full moon. "You know you can convince them just about anything you want them to believe. You're so good at it in fact I think you try to convince yourself."

James opened his mouth in a last attempt when Moony's words sent him plummeting into the same abyss he'd been lost all day in.

"Sirius told me what happened with Lily."

"What did he say?" For once his tone wasn't threatening or mocking or too jovial, but soft and very un-Prongsishly thoughtful.

And Remus caught this. "For the first time in two years you didn't propose at the sight of her, or do something else irrationally stupid. You actually greeted her like a civilized Wizard and then practically ran away once you realized it. And Lily was very confused." When Remus caught James watching Hermione a third time, he finished with a smile. "The thing Sirius is wondering, and I already know, is how this connects to Hermione."

His words were like a pop to the jaw and James didn't know whether to laugh or yell at his werewolf best friend for so easily connecting the puzzle out loud. "I thought we already went through this Moony. I'm only—"

"Looking out for her?" Remus finished with that damnable knowing gleam of amber in his eye. "From what I smell coming off the two of you I think there's a lot more than chivalry involved here Prongs."

Hermione's rich laughter drew both their gazes and Pete, finished with any musical stylings for the time being and was now playing with James' snitch. She shoved Sirius with more force than the dark haired Marauder was prepared for. He sank from knee to the earth with a plop and her laughter increased in volume. James' grin turned smug when Padfoot glared at him across the way.

_Things not going according to your plan Pads?_

He turned to share his triumph with Remus who merely commented, "Case and point mate."

"You shouldn't be able to use your super powers on us, Moony." James grumbled.

Remus stood finally, perfectly positioned fireworks prepared and James jumped up not to be looked down upon. "Either way she _is_ staying with you indefinitely. So you'll have plenty of time to decide whether or not to do something about how you feel."

James gaped while Remus dragged him back to Pete's side. The smallest Marauder had given up on the snitch and already fallen asleep midway through his fifth bottle of Butterbeer. Depositing James to their late night picnic he drew out his wand only to find his vision clouded by the frightening vision of the threatening spectacle wearing Mr. Potter. Grabbing Remus by the shoulders, he demanded, "How did you know she was staying?"

Remus shrugged and calmly, "She told me."

James turned away and paced, running a hand constantly through his black upturned hair. Shaking his head he couldn't believe it. First that Hermione talked to Remus more than him.

_Only blame yourself for that one you git…_

Second that she wasn't just talking to Sirius when his head was turned.

_Padfoot can chase her all he wants! She's staying with me…_

And third, that the thought of _her_ living here with them as long as…_forever_…his eyes rose to find her.

She stood back from Sirius now, arms wrapped round her chest, hair dark and wet round her face yet already curling in thick ringlets. Several sparklers lit from Sirius's hands and began to fly round them in circles, spreading golden showers of sparks overhead.

He froze, hand halfway through his hair, glasses on the bridge of his nose, when her amber eyes flickered and fixed onto him. She drew him in until he couldn't breathe.

"Sirius you arse! Can't you wait another two seconds!" Remus growled across the field.

Sirius grinned. "Just showing you how slow you are old man! Clearly your display will be no match for ours, eh Hermione?" He didn't notice Hermione never replied and if Remus did notice he didn't say anything.

Their countdown began, wands at the ready and then,

**_BOOM!_**

**_BOOM!_**

**_POP, POP, POP!_**

The sky was an explosion of multicolored sparks and dancing shapes and magic. The woods were filled with the shouts and exclamations of two of the Marauders.

Hermione and James didn't join in at first. He couldn't have known the reason behind the pensive tilt of her chin, or the fears in her heart. Had he known he might not have cared as much as he should.

All he could feel was the pounding drum of his heart as he felt her somehow more solidly become _his_ that moment illuminated within the field.

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**Review: If you like! The beginning of this chapter, the tea with Walburga and meeting Regulus again wasn't in the original plan but in answer to one review ;) So share your thoughts and you might see them come to life**


	15. I: of trains and extraordinary things

**A/N: My many thanks to everyone new and old who have enjoyed reading this.**

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**Part 1: PRE-HOGWARTS**

**Chapter 15**

**of trains and extraordinary things**

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It was an uncommonly hot day the morning they came to King's Cross and gathered together on Platform 9 ¾. Steam escaped beneath the long gleaming train parked on the nearby tracks. The _Hogwarts Express_ was trafficked by a hubbub of young Witches and Wizards, some tall, others short. Some wore tailored robes, others dressed in Muggle jeans and jumpers. Families of different make and size crowded round their progeny with tears, kisses and for some, a few brief words and cool nods of the head.

The year was 1976 and even here with the bustle of baggage crow of magical pets and shouts of children, darkness could be glimpsed between the light. For the eyes of some watched others with barely concealed hatred disguised with indifference. Few were aware of it yet, this underlying current of prejudice that might very possibly destroy them all. Yet to those who were watching, like Hermione Dumbledore, the tension on this platform this day was chilling and foreboding.

She hefted her large satchel closely to her chest and keeping her chin tucked, peeked from beneath the veil of her dark tresses. The air was warm and sultry after a record-breaking heat wave that had swept through lower England this summer. For Hermione, who could only remember the last two weeks of the holidays, who only knew the world the Potters had offered and the mysterious knowledge hidden in her mind, the heat was still unsettling.

She had stumbled upon James' swim hole retreat and after thoroughly checking and charming it free of snakes began to find the late night swims refreshing. That last night, when she had needed an escape from the great house, escape from her disturbingly successful afternoon with the Black family. The last thing she expected was to run into James. Rather than clearing her head, the night had only served to confuse and stir her emotions in equally unpleasant and pleasant ways.

That night, with her limbs tangled together with his beneath the dark water, beneath the tapestry of stars, Hermione saw something in his eyes she was beginning to fear.

She should have noticed it long before, perhaps, from the very first time she set his spectacles over his straight nose, the evening he managed to make her smile for the first time since she could remember. There was a way he had of looking at her that spoke louder than any words he could say. It was so deep she felt he was the only thing in the world that could help her stay afloat. It made her blood race in such a way that it was everything she could do _not_ to touch him.

Without a doubt Hermione knew _this_ feeling was new to her now as it might have been in whatever past life she had led. Heart soared even as it sank and she tried to burry it down deep because she felt so unworthy of it…

"Oi!" His long fingers wrapped round hers and he leant forward to meet her eye, walking backwards in an effortless way only James M. Potter could manage without tripping over himself. "Why the long face, love? Embarrassed to be seen off by Mum and Dad?" He wagged his eyebrows at her before a grin, _that special grin_, crept into his face.

Despite her dark mood she couldn't help but to smile back, or catch her breath as his thumb briefly grazed over her knuckles.

_You don't even know who I am! _she wanted to shout at him.

"James! Do not put words into her mouth! Just because you're too good for your dearest Mum doesn't mean Hermione didn't want us to see her off!" Dorea sniffed and took the younger Witch by the crook of the arm and sent her son a hard reprimand.

Charlus chuckled, adding, "Yes, and by the looks of things we're late as usual. My dear? Do you think we could try arriving on time to these things for once?" Despite his wrinkles and salt and pepper hair, the old Warlock toted Hermione's larger trunk with ease. Perhaps he had placed a featherweight charm on it before?

Dorea shook her head and leaning down to Hermione's ear whispered, "He never lets us arrive on time. Loves the dramatic entrance thing you see."

Hermione's grin widened, then fade with a jolt of nerves, because of _him_. James linked their fingers together, urging them along. Though she glanced up for a quick study of his face, he kept his confident grin fixed, eyes forward.

Charlus set a slower pace to meet them. "What was that, my dear?" His eyes narrowed suspiciously and Hermione nearly laughed at how much he looked like and older version of James.

Dorea smiled sweetly, "Nothing darling…James, where has Sirius got off to?"

With a laugh and shrug of the shoulders he began nonchalantly, "Probably booby-trapping the Slytherin car knowing Padfoot." Yet his fingers tightened their grip on Hermione's and her eyes began to drift over the crowd nervously. Somehow she had the feeling James knew _exactly_ why Sirius had snuck off soon as they crossed the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10 of King's Cross.

Remus and Peter had left the Manor earlier that morning to avoid the initial crowd and save them seats in their usual car. _"After all,"_as Pete said, _"We can't let just anyone sit in the Marauder's car!"_ Remus in particular wasn't fond of large crowds when he could help it.

Now swamped, in the midst of faces Hermione couldn't imagine pairing with names, and feeling slightly claustrophobic herself, she was beginning to wish she'd gone early as well.

Charlus had been the one to insist their presence, much to Dorea's protests. The Wizarding World was not so secure a place as Charlus liked to think of it for influential Wizards like him. He was too closely tied to Dumbledore, too vocal against Pureblood Supremacy within the Ministry and supportive of Muggles to _not_ be a target.

James was much like his father, she learned. Both of them spoke almost glibly of the Dark Wizard threatening their people, as though he were a gnat to be squashed.

Hermione saw the worry in Dorea's eyes as they joked together, the hard glances she graced other high borne Wizards they passed along the Platform. These same high borne Wizarding families watched them as they passed by and she shivered when she felt the cool graze of their eyes.

"Ah! Here we are! James my boy, let's aid our lady-fair's!" Charlus and James set off to setting their bags on the pile of trunks already secured to the rack. James turned to grin and wink at Hermione before hefting her large trunk with ease. His Muggle band T-shirt strained at the sleeves where his toned Quidditch muscles flexed.

Hermione ducked her head the moment she felt a familiar heat begin to flood her system, thankful to the olive tint of her skin masking her blush, but not before James caught her embarrassment. He approached her with so broad a grin it was a wonder his jaw remained attached.

It was also in this moment Hermione noticed that several of the dozen Witches of various ages had spotted the leader of the infamous Marauders and begun to point and whisper excitedly. Many of them were watching her with a blend of confusion, hostility and equal curiosity and Hermione wanted to run for the Stag Shack right that instant and never leave it again.

"There is the last of it! Hope Sirius catches us before the whistle blows!" Charlus wrapped an arm about Dorea's narrow shoulders.

"I am certain he will. He knows he'll be in trouble if he doesn't." Dorea smiled up into the shining eyes of her husband. Charlus whispered into her ear then and Hermione was surprised when the prim Witch laughed heartily in return, slapping him playfully with her gloved hand.

Hermione shook her head, nearly jumped out of her skin when James spoke over and just in front of her. "A bit scary, aren't they?"

She looked up to see the sun-tanned smirk of the boy she was only feeling the tremors of how important she sensed he was to become to her. His hazel eyes shone with fierce intensity, an off brand of the same look he took when upset or off a broom adrenaline rush.

Forgetting to answer she began to wonder, _Do you feel this? Do I make you forget yourself or feel so full it's hard to breathe?_

His brow furrowed with concern when her gaze grew distant. His hands held hers in the space between them.

_Has he always held my hand?_

"Mione, love?"

He studied her worriedly and she forgot to care for the opinions of the blurring images that passed and rounded them, or even the elderly couple who had become parents she hadn't known.

"Remember what I told you back home? You're gonna be great! Everyone can't help but to love you, you know, even the sodding Snakes." Thoughtfully, with an evil twist of the mouth, he added, "Course if anyone doesn't they'll get to know the end of my wand loads better than they'd ever wish to."

She frowned. "James that isn't very funny."

Her ire only encouraged him as his eyes gleamed brighter. "Oh you're saying that now, but you haven't seen my favorite hexes yet!"

"Nor should she ever!" Dorea exclaimed, interrupting them.

Hermione jerked her hands from the tall Marauder, crossing her arms before her chest instead and trying to ignore the knowing quirk of Charlus' smile.

_Were they watching the whole time?_

"Now, now, Dorea, let's send them off properly before our boy looses his Head Boy badge before he's even worn it!" he said, laughing to himself. The jab of Dorea's glare sobered him quickly.

From her robes Lady Potter held up a small satchel for Hermione. Both looked on at her with so much love, her vision began to slowly blur. "Dearest, we wanted to give you this. It has everything you will need for the Gala, everything that your parents would have made certain you have…" She held the velvet pouch with the same grace that lingered in her every step.

Hermione threw herself into the taller woman's arms, to bury her fresh tears much as to say the things she couldn't say out loud. Dorea caught her breath before quickly returning the girl's embrace.

Charlus continued on. "Can't be a proper escort without the right stuff! Now! Come here Jamie-boy. Remember what I told you last night, lad, and don't forget it soon! I'll know, mind you. And in the meantime, protect our girl."

Hermione heard James' answer muffled in the crook of his father's shoulder. "I won't forget Dad."

"Brilliant!"

When Hermione at last moved to breathe she found Dorea grinning triumphantly down at her son. "See? I told you she wanted us here."

James rolled his eyes, then groaned out a, "Mum!" when she threw her arms then round her _baby_.

Yet Hermione didn't expect to quickly be wrapping in the billowing robes and firm embrace of Lord Potter next. "Be sure to keep our Jamie out of mischief love, but not _too_ much."

"There you are Padfoot! You sneaky git!" James exclaimed from behind them.

Sirius Black had at last arrived and judging by his grin had just finished whatever misdeeds he'd left them for. James' superior tone didn't phase the renegade Black one bit. With a wink for Hermione, he announced, "See I just missed the tears Mummy P! Mind if I steal a few more now?" Spreading his arms comically wide he gathered and lifted a shocked Dorea off her feet.

"_Sirius Orion Black_!" She gasped, "These bones are not as young as you insist on treating them!"

James shook his head again, yet when he turned to share a look with his Witch, her attentions had already been diverted.

Hermione wasn't certain how long the platform had been albeit deserted. Most students were aboard the train, their guardians either gone or in case of the first years gathered back from the tracks.

Apart from a few lone students made their way through the billowing clouds of white steam and the Slytherin's.

She felt his stare before meeting dark sapphire eyes, yet it was most certainly Regulus Black standing at the center of the tailored cloaks. All had the shifty looks of Wizards up to no good and the wand strapped to her thigh began to burn with a delicious frozen heat. Several others beside Regulus had turned to watch the Potters curious scene. A few marked the disowned Black heir with disdain. Yet their eyes never lingered on the Potters or Sirius, but rather _her, _in particular the silver phoenix crest between her breasts. She felt naked and wished she hadn't worn her golden sundress styled robes after all.

_But it was too bloody hot to wear more today!_

Regulus' eyes never strayed from hers and rather than adopting the aloof study of his House Mate's attentions, only gave her his crooked grin instead.

"OI! Reggie! Eyes off you slimy git!" Sirius called out to the space between.

Hermione whirred to find either Marauder beside and slightly in front of her. Charlus and Dorea had already gone with the **_POP_** of Apparition. She grabbed Sirius sleeve. "No! Don't provoke them!"

He seemed to puff up even more at her touch and offered a quick wink instead. "No worries love, I've got this covered."

The Snakes had all turned to them now as they approached and the whistle blew as they insisted on blocking the Marauder's way. Regulus' grin darkened, eyes never straying from his desire. "As far as I can tell_Sirius_, no one seems to have claimed her yet. And that means fair game."

A tall blonde beside him called after, "Yeah and even if one of _you_ wanted to claim her, what makes you think the _heir of Dumbledore_ would choose _blood traitors_ over us?"

Sirius arched a wicked brow and Hermione's eyes widened when she felt him move for the wand hid in his back jeans pocket. "You know, I doubt your slow-witted minds can wrap around this, but she would rather eat grease off a troll than side with a House of _Death Eaters_."

Hermione froze as the whistle blew again. "Sirius!" she hissed, "We need to get on board _now_!"

Yet before the Snakes could respond, the formerly silent James rushed ahead, "Back the fuck off!" He faced them eye level and nearly nose to nose and she shivered at the cold fury he left in his wake.

Regulus' tall friend smirked, unfazed. "Ooh! A bit harsh coming from _Head Boy_, eh Potter?"

Sirius urged Hermione closer, ready to watch his best mate's back. When his had pressed to her back she felt his wand pressing flat against it as well.

James ground out, wand hand twitching, "I'm not Head Boy outside of this train and that means I can still kick your ass."

Regulus glanced from Hermione and back to James before settling his unwavering stare to her again. "So _lovely_to see you again so soon Miss Dumbledore. Till our next meeting." His wink was akin to his brother, yet filled with a darker promise.

As the Snakes began to turn Hermione realized that Sirius hadn't interrupted his best mate's challenge and by the way the corner of his lips kept twitching, wondered why he weren't furious as James.

Yet it was then the **_POP_** and **_BANG _**of magical firecrackers erupted within the far end of the train, followed by screeches and screams the tailored robes seemed to recognize. "Bloody hell!" Several exchanged like profanities as they rushed inside.

Sirius had the gall to link his arm through Hermione's and laugh, "Serves you right you little bitches!"

James' eyes zeroed on their joined arms before narrowing further to Sirius. "You know you're gonna make my life hell this year."

Sirius tipped a salute, "Marauders for life mate. Better go start your Head duties, Prongs."

James' mouth turned a grim line, as though fighting his poorly concealed humor. "You know that was brilliant."

"Naturally milord!" Sirius bowed low.

James shook his head but it wasn't long before he turned a sharp eye to Hermione. "Think you'll be okay with this narcissistic prat for a couple hours?"

It was only last night that James and Sirius sat her down to share all they could about Hogwarts. Some things they said made her brain explode with all the knowledge her mind occasionally pulled up during their conversation. Others, like James' excitement and surprise over making Head Boy made her smile and occasionally shake her head at the list of misdeeds the Marauder's would be capable of.

Sirius protested, "Oi! What's that supposed to mean? I'm the humblest damned bloke you'll ever meet Hermione!"

Her eyes never left James. "I'm sure I'll manage," she said. Her reward was the broad face splitting roguish grin she was beginning to adore.

The moment Sirius helped her take her first steps inside the Hogwart's Express was an odd moment for Hermione. Everything around her felt _familiar_ and left her feeling oddly homesick.

She was thankful for the lack of people on the car Sirius escorted her to. James was headed already for the outraged chaos coming from Slytherin. And Sirius Black had no qualms with telling Hermione exactly _how_ he had used their leftover firecrackers from their pre-Hogwarts celebration this morning.

She couldn't help but to turn a harsh eye on him however, even if they _were_ Slytherins. "Sirius, you shouldn't provoke them like that! They know it had to be you, yet you put James into a compromising position by doing it anyway."

With a roll of his shining gray eyes and toss of his too perfectly trimmed shag hair, he replied, "Mione, love, if you're going to be spending time with us you're going to have to face the facts! We may be the golden boys of Gryffindor, but that doesn't mean we can't be as sneaky and vengeful as them."

Crossing her arms before her chest she frowned. "Maybe they wouldn't have to be so sneaky and vengeful if you weren't acting like snakes in disguise?"

Walking backwards with liquid ease, his black hair fell into his pleading eyes and he made a grab for her expressive fingers. "You know I love it when you talk dirty…" He cocked his head to the side with a grin that would have made any other Witch melt into senseless goo.

Hermione swatted his hands away, brow rising dramatically into her bangs. "I hate it when you do that!"

Straightening and now walking side-along to avoid bumping into a small first year rushing by he grinned. "Do what?"

_Is he really this thick? And I thought James was bad…_

"Turn every serious conversation _you_ start up with a bloody joke!" She waited for his response and couldn't believe when he only barely flinched from her tone. With a groan, "Don't you take _anything_ seriously?"

"Not if I can help it. Though having _you_ around could convince me to try a bit more."

Hermione opened her mouth to try and pound sense into him some more. This was about James and about all of them! The last thing James needed was for his mates to make his duty a living hell. And the last thing she needed was to have Slytherin breathing down her neck any more this term.

Sirius waited patiently while she sorted things and with the gleam in his eye, bridled excitement she was ready to deliver. Until she saw a tall, thin black figure exit the nearest compartment and march straight for them. His eyes never left the floor and were obscured by sleek black hair occasionally brushing his prominent crooked nose. He already wore the colors of Slytherin proudly.

_Speak of the snake…_

But what was he doing at the other end of the train, clearly in Gryffindor territory?

So fascinated with his peculiar appearance was Hermione that she forgot to warn Sirius not to run into him. And run into him he did. Though neither fell back, she was amazed at the exclamations that caused a few heads to peak from neighboring compartments, the looks of recognition that filled both their faces, and the disgusted distance they kept from one another.

"_Black,_" the Slytherin spat.

"_Snivellus,_" Sirius said. Somehow he placed Hermione behind him, a wicked grin in place. Even though the Snake was nearly a head higher than the hotheaded Lion, he stood like he owned the place. "Aren't you a bit far from _your_ end of the train?" He clasped his hands behind his back, yet Hermione saw the muscles in his tanned forearms flex, fingertips graze the tip of his back pocketed wand.

The Slytherin called Snivellus didn't respond, though his head was turned slightly behind him, eyes fixed to the floor. Hermione wasn't oblivious to the way he clenched his fist, half covered by his long black sleeves, or the burn of dark magic that wrapped round her like a cool blanket.

At last, he said with a surprisingly deep and rich tone, "_Black_, were it not in my poorest judge of character to even consider wasting breath over your insults, I would _gladly_ aid you in not wasting any more of _yours_. But…at the moment I believe I am beyond concerning myself with your pointless life."

Sirius grinned. "So glad you're seeing things my way _Snivellus_! I'd hate for you to waste any more breath…but can the dead still breathe? I didn't know Vampires could do anything else but suck the life out of their victims."

Hermione rolled her eyes. This was twice in only one hour! How did Sirius survive Hogwarts if he was constantly causing a row?

"Black! Leave him alone! You've wasted enough air as it is. Being near you is bad enough!" The sharp feminine voice came from just behind them, from thecompartment Snivellus left. And though Sirius never averted his gaze, Hermione peered past Snivellus in time to see fierce green eyes, fixed on a pale face that was surrounded by long straight hair the color of flames. And now all her fury was fixed on Sirius.

"Lily…" Snivellus warned, "You don't have to interfere. I can deal with him easily enough." His back straightened and if Hermione didn't know any better, she would have thought he was trying to _defend_ the beautiful Gryffindor behind him.

"Sev…"

"Lily?" Sirius seemed to notice her for the first time, eyes wide and mouth agape, changing quickly from shock to disgust as his gray gaze shifted from between the two. "What in blazes are you doing talking to her, Snape?"

"None of your business, Black!" Lily shouted out from behind him. "Sev, just go!"

Snivellus' eyes narrowed though he still made no move to look at Lily. "I'm not leaving you alone with _him_."

"_Sigh..._we've only just made up, you know. I don't think you've earned the right to defend my honor yet Sev."

Hermione covered Sirius' wand hand, that was wrapped tightly about the stick in his back pocket, with her own. Breathing against his ear she whispered, "Come on Sirius. We can't get James into any more trouble today." She noticed that Lily was watching them curiously and Sev with darkly veiled curiosity. The Slytherin, oddly enough, did not spare a glance for her gaudy phoenix crest.

Sirius trembled beneath her touch for a moment, before seeming to grab hold of himself enough to breathe normally. "You're right," he admitted.

Severus smirked. "Letting your latest whore call all the shots Black?"

"Why you slimy piece of-!" When he started to pull his wand from his back pocket her grip tightened and she rushed round to face him.

Placed firmly between them, she tried to ignore the heady energy crackling between the two. Keeping her fingers tightly over his and the wand in his back pocket, she used her free hand to pulled Sirius's face down, to meet her eyes. "Sirius, please? I want to find Remus and Peter."

The steel in his gray eyes softened only a second before his devilish grin returned and he leaned into her further. "If you keep your hand on my arse I might be persuaded."

With a sigh, she removed her hand from his, effectively prying his fingers away and urging them along. She managed quick smiles and nods to Snivellus and his Witch, Lily, and tried to ignore the whispers and stares from other students as the train at last began to chug along beneath them.

Once she was certain they were beyond hearing distance flung his grip away and hissed, "What was that all about? Can't you go ten minutes without causing trouble?"

"Come on love, you know you enjoyed having your hand on my arse."

Arms crossing her chest, she favored him her heaviest glare.

Though his brows raised just a bit, his grin never wavered. "Relax, love! It was only Snivellus. Don't worry! Trust me that was nothing compared to some of our hexing wars. But don't you even begin to feel sorry for the slimy bastard. He gives as good as he gets."

"But who is he Sirius? And who was that girl, Lily?"

"Snape is just a git who can't get what he wants…as for Evans…well you might rather ask James about that one."

She knew he was hiding something. It was obvious by the fact he averted her eyes instead of his usual smolder, and his tone she had quickly learned betrayed everything.

_But why should I ask James about her?_

"Here we are!" Too eagerly the Marauder pounded against the windows of their car and the door slid open.

From within they clearly heard Peter's voice. "Oh thank Merlin! Bout time you two showed up! Remus was going bloody mental!"

An hour spent stocked up with a bag full of candy and Peter's deck of exploding snaps later found the Marauder's initial boundless energy depleted.

Sirius had slipped out the moment Peter's snores began and Remus dug out his current pleasure read. And so for the first time since they had entered the Hogwarts Express Hermione found peace and silence to haunt her.

Yet being alone with her thoughts wasn't a very comforting place to be. She had much rather the distractions of the Marauders and the Potters. She had much rather turn off that annoying logical side of her brain that insisted on making its presence known, always destroying whatever sliver of peace she found in Remus' songs, Pete's chess games and James's hazel eyes. She wanted to wrap herself into their lives and their world as much as they seemed to want her. She wanted to be a Dumbledore and had come to rely on Albus' occasional letters for that extra dose of peace; for his assurance that he was watching over her and still found no worldly trace of her identity.

She had to keep hoping his search would never prove successful.

At Hogwarts she could keep living her new life, her second chance.

_But you can't forget…_

Her fingertips pressed against the cool glass, passing the ever-changing landscape as they pushed higher north.

_Once we get to Hogwarts things will be better._

She'd be sorted into Gryffindor for certain, or so Sirius and James insisted. How could the heir of Dumbledore _not_?

_But you know you're not really a Dumbledore. You're not anybody. They don't really know you. Not even you know yourself. For all they know you could have been the one helping _**_him _**_kill those Muggles…_

She shivered. Why shouldn't it be true?

Sometimes she hated herself for not being able to live in the moment as Sirius encouraged, for not being able to be happy as James wanted her to be.

She glanced from her window seat to the one across, Pete slumped against the opposite end and Remus engrossed in his Muggle novel, _War and Peace_.

Thoughts of James brought on a dozen new memories, yet to Hermione these new memories were her _whole world_.

The car door opened with an easy slide of metal against cushioned metal, and returned to its proper place just as quickly.

_Guess Sirius didn't find the entertainment he was looking for…_

She kept her eyes on the gray twilit skies beyond the smooth glass. She waited for the inevitable exclamations of adventure and debauchery Sirius usually tossed at them. When met with silence instead she shut her eyes the moment a very warm calloused hand covered her smaller cool hand.

The heat spread from her fingertips to the skin beneath her pale golden robes and up her arm into her chest. A foreign emotion invaded her, desire swelled up in her core and her senses heightened. He smelled like the wind, like sandalwood and freshly cut grass…

_Do I deserve just one more untainted moment?_

She could let her conscience and logic escape for just a while longer, couldn't she?

His voice was rough and deep as it had been that first day she woke to it. "Sorry it took me so long, Mione."

She opened her eyes, turned only after he traced an initially hesitant, suddenly confident finger down her cheekbone. His lopsided grin and tired eyes met her and Hermione realized how close they were sitting. His finger lingered, trailing just down the pulse of her neck. Just then she had the irrational urge to snog him thoroughly, audience or no, and had to grip the window sill to keep herself grounded.

"Hey," She managed.

"Guess you survived an hour with these tossers then?" He waited for her nod and soft smile to finally relax and continue, keeping her hand locked securely in his all the while. It was starting to feel a little _too _natural.

"Took me longer than it should have to get Sirius' mess sorted. You can imagine Slytherin was in a tissy. Not even the Head Girl helped me out on that one, though no surprise there. After our Prefect meeting she left me to calm the Slytherin demands for justice down. We're not even at the bloody school yet! _Sigh…_" His long legs stretched out and he moved his other arm round the back of the seat and against Hermione's shoulders.

She shivered as he played with the sleeve of her lacy robes, yet couldn't tear her eyes from his. "So you're done until they can corner you at school I assume?"

He grinned down at her proudly. "You know you've got to be the brightest Witch of our age, right?"

She grimaced and turned back to the window. "No."

"No? I think you're gonna learn real quick how wrong you are. Once you meet the rest of the female population at Hogwarts you'll understand. None of them can even come close to comparing to you! Not even Lily…" The last he added with a dimmed hush.

Something in his tone made her ache with fresh pain, something akin to heartache. She bit her lip. So this was Snivellus's Lily, the Lily that Sirius told Hermione to ask James about.

"Hey, what is it?" He rounded on her then, turned to better face her and after she refused to, tilted her face gently to his with his hand.

She met his concerned frown with a look James did not fancy. She knew instantly because of how quickly his brow darkened.

"What has Sirius been telling you?"

Remus glanced briefly at them over the pages of his book.

She couldn't lie, not to _him_. "We ran into Snivellus in the hallway earlier." Upon James's laughter she countered, "What's so funny?"

"Sirius has _definitely_ been talking to you. Sorry, keep going love."

"We also ran into Lily." She cringed when his laughter died and his mouth set into a hard line.

Immediately, as though reading her thoughts, vehemently, "Lily is the Head Girl and that's all she'll ever be to me." He stumbled when he saw her surprise. "That is…" Hanging his head a moment, looking at the occupied Marauder's across and cursing, "_damn it Padfoot__…_" His eyes locked onto hers, swirling pools of brilliant shades of gold and green. "I used to fancy her you see...but we've never been friends really. I mean…"

"She is beautiful," Hermione offered to him lamely, feeling smaller with each syllable.

"Yeah, I suppose she'll make some bloke the happiest man on earth one day. But she prefers to make my life a living hell." The weariness returned to his eyes then. He sat back in his seat, though seemed unwilling to add any more space between them.

Hermione didn't mind. Having him close was comforting as much as it was maddening. "So she's Head Girl. Guess you'll need someone to help you keep sane after being forced to share a Common Room?"

_If he wants her, he can still be my friend can't he?_

James grinned. "Well you know I was actually thinking of having a bunkmate every once in a while. You know, to ah, ease the tension."

Hermione gritted her teeth when he took her hand between both of his and began to graze the sensitive skin between her knuckles with his calloused fingertips. Shutting her eyes against the unexpected pleasure, she asked, "I thought you weren't supposed to break the rules when assuming the duties of Head Boy?"

He turned her palm over to trace along its lines and circle her pulse. Leaning over to speak low against her hair, he teased her. "I'm not like most Head Boys."

She shut her eyes when his nose brushed against the shell of her ear. His chest pressed to her shoulder so she could feel the pounding of his heartbeat racing against her skin. It somehow mysteriously matched her own. A dull ringing began in her ears, growing louder until she couldn't handle the buzz of magic building beneath the surface of her skin.

Breathlessly she moved away from him and faced the window once more. "I'm sure Sirius will be elated."

"Padfoot? What's this have to do with him?"

She didn't miss the sharp inflection in his tone but didn't dare turn to meet it. She couldn't look into those eyes again and keep a safe distance from him any more. And something had changed in him. She could feel it.

Remus met her eyes from across the room then. She wanted to hex him for his amusement over her current predicament.

_Stupid Werewolf sixth sense!_

"You said you wanted a bunk mate," she offered. "I'm sure I can talk to Uncle Albus and arrange it for you." Two days ago James would have laughed and encouraged her joke. Now he was silent.

Ignoring her comment he said, "Have you opened Dad and Mum's gift yet?"

The bag rested at her feet and she eagerly reached for it, grateful for the distraction. "No, not yet."

_Thank Merlin!_

"Surprised you didn't. Gotta admit I'm a bit curious. I never pay attention to what girls need for these things." His voice had lost the heat it seethed from before. When she met his eyes they were curious and sad.

They poured over the contents of Dorea's gift together. To Hermione's surprise there was more to this coming-of-age Gala than she had expected. She wasn't _just_ James' escort, but a participant in her own right, he said. Especially with her newly publicized bloodline.

Somehow during their talk, as Remus at last nodded off to sleep against the window, they forgot the troubles between them. She couldn't shut off her longing to be closer, yet for a moment they were just James and Hermione again.

She was laughing as he tried to defend her honor. She called him chauvinistic as he detailed the complexities of Pureblood life and their expected behavior at the Gala.

He took her hand in his again, pain and heat flashing through his green flecked eyes, but his smile was slow and sincere. Running a hand through his wild black hair, he commented, "You know that's the reason all the Snakes keep staring at you, right?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh? Why is that?"

"Hermione, you've become the most desired Pureblood heiress this side of the continent. That necklace Uncle Albus gave to you lifts you up like a flag and they're all gonna be drawn to you like fleas to a dog."

Her mouth twisted into a pout. "Seriously? I don't think I can take another one of their leering stares." Eyes alight with inspiration she turned and pressed her palm to his chest, "James is it too late to change my name and my look? I could cast a few charms on my hair and skin and no one would know the difference!"

His laughter was infectious. "Honestly? I don't think, even if you tried to be the most boring uninteresting Witch at Hogwarts, you'd avoid being noticed."

She groaned and looked away, sinking into her seat. "I'm doomed aren't I?"

His lips quirked a mischievous grin as he turned to follow her. "You know…I _could_ keep their paws off you somewhat. If you'd let me claim you."

Eyebrows arched, her amber eyes met his with disbelief. "And what exactly will this entail?"

Holding out his fingers he began to list off, "Well first of all, no one would be able to legally make any advances on you until the Gala ended. Second, I'd know if _anyone_ else touched you or looked at you the wrong way and give em hell. All you'll have to do is come with me to every social event on the Pureblood calendar this next term. Oh, _and_ ah, every Hogsmeade trip."

Hermione blinked past a short history on the founding of the Wizarding village and met his eyes with apprehension. Should she agree?

_At least it would protect me from any unwanted gits…_

And it would keep Slytherin's relationship to her a strict look without touch policy.

_The longer I stay out of the dark's attention the better…_

At last she turned and smiled at him sweetly. "I don't know whether to be worried or learn how to thank you for saving me _again_."

And in a perfect tilt of the head, slightly lowered pitch of tone, he mused, "Oh I'll be thinking of a few ways."

* * *

**Review: If ye like :)**


	16. II: head boy

**A/N: I have adored your reviews, as well as getting to know a few new faces and reconnecting with old ones. Loves to my FF family :)**

* * *

**Part 2: HOGWARTS**

**Chapter 16**

**Head Boy**

* * *

Hogwarts Express was the same as it had always been. Only now he was Head Boy and for the first time in seven years couldn't shirk his responsibilities. Instead they glared him down over him with wrathful almond shaped green eyes.

James had somehow managed, _yet again_, to pull shit from his arse and avoid laying the blame on the Marauders. Brilliant as Sirius' prank had been he'd put them in a precarious position, yet again.

_Even though I was the one who came up with the idea in the first place!_

Sirius had cornered him in the hall immediately after and warned him of Hermione's opinion of their little prank. Hearing her words relayed back made him wince and in turnabout had given him a ridiculous dose of hope. Because in his mind, when Sirius relayed Hermione's frustrations, all he heard was that she was worried about _him_.

He supposed he could forgive her for feeling sorry for the snakes. She had a soft heart for the weak and oppressed. Yet maybe she didn't understand pranking the Slytherin's wasn't about bullying a bunch of toerags. No, it was about revenge.

"_I'd think twice before going in there, mate."_The slightly shorter Black warned him.

Yet while Sirius left to find his first fling of the term, James went to Hermione anyway. He saw the same sad look on her face that wrenched his gut, same as the first time he had caught it marring her lovely face. It gave him the drive to find out who had cursed her even more. And it killed him that after _everything_ they had tried to do the last few days of the summer holiday, this wasn't something he could fix.

James hated feeling helpless and hated seeing anyone else grounded by their fears. Ever since he was a little kid he had always been the first to fix things the way they needed to be. He'd been rescuing people as long too he supposed, from his Mum's gnome infested flowerbed, to Sirius' hell of a home, Remus from spending each full moon alone and Peter from being bullied. For _these_ people, James had literally turned himself inside out and risked his life.

Yet when his eyes fell on the small young woman with her wild dark curls and lost eyes…

_For her I'd do anything._

He couldn't keep his hands off her. And this time it wasn't just because he was a randy, teenage, over-privileged, pureblooded _git_. It was because her skin was so soft and smooth, because she smelled like vanilla and honey, because holding her made him feel like he was doing _something_ to keep her safe even if she felt lost.

Having been the brunt of _many_ Witches' adoration and occasionally disturbing amorous attentions, James Potter was not oblivious to her reaction to him. After all, he had not so long ago been almost as bad as Sirius was. "_A womanizer_" as Lily Evans insisted on labeling them.

_Which isn't totally fair! Okay maybe she's dead on about Pads, but I'm not half so bad as that!_

He knew exactly what girls thought of him. He had heard their comments and seen the way they swooned. And at times, being a man with needs, he had taken advantage of it. But he had only gotten to second base on both occasions before their cover was nearly blown. There was only so much self-control a bloke could have!

Least he could say he'd chosen to remain devoted to Lily the whole of last term. Sixth year was when he began to wield his greatest charms to no effect. Her reaction in fact taught him there _were_ other ways to snag himself a Witch worth having. It wasn't all about poems and fireworks and love songs. He wanted to earn it.

So when he _literally_ felt the spark between Hermione and him, that ever-present heady rush every time they touched…

_Good Godric if Padfoot ever hears me talk like this…_

She had been just as affected as he was. Knowing this excited him so much he forgot his own promise to protect her from _anyone,_ including himself. It didn't even register that she might not want him to touch her. He had a nasty habit of losing his wits about her. For instance, forgetting every bit of the code he and Sirius had patented fourth year on how to manage bints. Something about Hermione stood apart from any other girl he'd known. James knew that he could never treat her like he had all the others, not even Evans.

It was a constant storm between them. One second her eyes would spark lightning, the next fade to darkened clouds. And for one blessed moment he would have kissed her, right in front of Remus who was pretending not to watch them. He would have kissed her not because he thought it would make her happier or forget sorrows she couldn't remember, but because he _wanted_ to.

And that's what scared him most of all.

The more time he spent around her the more he was realizing sooner or later he would _need_ to do something about it or else be driven to drastic measures.

Over the top was written in his nature, Moony had once said.

James tried not to think about the major victory he'd just scored with his Witch.

_Honestly, the ring's just to protect her! Well…and maybe a bit more…_

He reasoned with himself, nearly convinced himself the sudden broom high he felt was because of the way her eyes sparkled in the lantern light. Until he remembered the look in her eyes while accepting his family ring.

_She said yes…_

_She said yes _**_to me_**_…_

He could claim her for the entire fall term! It would protect her and…

_Damn you Padfoot!_

Sirius Black walked in just as he was starting to feel his game coming back, just when she was staring up at him with those wide and curious eyes, lips parted and oh-so-perfect for snogging. Would she really let him? Would she hate him for it? He froze when he saw the distance she made between them, pressing ever tighter to the window and the way Sirius squeezed himself between the two of them.

"...should have seen the look on McKinnon's face!" He continued telling a story James hadn't been listening to.

Meanwhile, James' eyes found Remus' already trained on his and hated the all knowing look in his best mate's perceptive eyes. James crossed his arms in front of his chest, making more room and grimaced.

"Course I'll do it for you Sirius!" Padfoot took on Marlene's high Scottish trill. "I'd do anything for you Sirius!"

Hermione sighed, never turning her eyes from the window.

Pete's snores added a sort of background music to their conversation.

Remus snorted and commented, "I doubt she meant it."

Sirius leaned back and threw his arm round the edge of the seat and dangerously close to Hermione's stiff shoulders. "Moony, you know it was only a matter of time before I got her to admit her obsession with me! Not that I blame her. Prongs, remember that one time in fourth year?"

James knew exactly the moment Sirius was referring to, but chose to ignore his mate's wide gray eyes.

_Snogging a bint in a broom cupboard doesn't mean she's got your stamp on her arse ever after!_

Never mind the fact James would have laughed and encouraged Sirius' exploits only a year ago, maybe even tossed in a few of his own to spice it up.

"Well, am I right or not? Prongs?" Sirius frowned, his good mood gone and he glared at Remus as though he were to blame. "What the hell did you do this time Moony?"

Remus rolled his eyes and turned the page of his latest thousand-page novel. "Nothing you didn't do to yourself." His eyes leveled with James', then flickered briefly to Hermione.

Sirius merely grinned and followed the trail of Moony's eyes. "Ah…I see. This about making her bring up Evans to you? Not my fault mate I swear!" He held up both hands when James chose to direct his grimace at last. "We ran into them and I figured you'd rather tell her than _me_, yeah?"

The only good thing about his excuse was the fact his arm wasn't around Hermione anymore.

James shook his head. "Even though I appreciate your thoughtfulness Padfoot, the last thing on my mind right now is Evans!"

His temper was up. No stopping it now. And though Sirius had a temper to match, he knew better than to tempt fate and with good reason. James hadn't let him win a fight in the last four years.

Sirius' black brow arched, eyes gleaming with the unspoken challenge. "Well there's a confession at last! Fan-bloody-tastic! At least you're sharing your feelings now mate, getting things out in the open. This is good. Positive energy." Motioning with his hands in a way too similar to their Divination Professor from two years back, Sirius was digging deep.

"This coming from the git who can't hold a serious conversation for more than ten seconds?" He sat up as tall as he could in his seat, grinning triumphantly when Sirius' brow only leveled to the bridge of his nose.

His silvery eyes were filled with purpose. "Least I'm honest with myself and other people. Instead of deciding what's best for a bloke before he's had his fun! Great job Prongs, you're fast on your way to becoming the next Dumbledore!"

Remus thrust his book down hard enough to wake up a startled Pete.

"Oi! What's going on?" Pete asked, alarmed. His pale blue eyes darted between his mates and instantly he sat back in his seat. He'd witnessed d one too many rows between them before to have his head bitten off now.

Remus growled when Moony breached the surface of his usually calm demeanor."That's enough Padfoot! Same goes for you Prongs! Stop before you embarrass yourselves."

James shook his head when he saw Sirius' sly grin. Clearly Padfoot had no intention of letting this one go.

_What the hell is this really about?_

James opened his mouth to answer when Hermione chose to end the discussion.

Grabbing her black Hogwarts robes she brushed past them briskly with a dark expression on her face. "I'm changing into my robes. Maybe you should too."

Remus, already donned in his, offered her a soft smile that lasted only till she shut the compartment door with a swift click. His glare was menacing when it returned to the two culprits. "You two couldn't wait to settle this before we got to Hogwarts?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Sorry mate, know your hormones are bonkers right now. But this had to come out sometime! This is driving me bloody crazy!"

James threw his hands up in the air to keep from throwing his fists instead. "What are you talking about?"

Sirius grinned at him, calm save for the gleam in his eyes that betrayed how much he loved a good row and the direction it turned. "Deny the truth all you want mate. You are so bloody obvious it's a wonder she hasn't caught on by now."

_Shit._

He refused to let them see him blanch. Instead he settled in his seat and grinned lazily and adopted a matured James persona for the moment. "You're jealous aren't you? The one Witch you couldn't have. Might have known you'd try something. But you're too late."

Sirius' eyes narrowed. "What the hell?"

Remus sighed. "Hermione's his escort and James is claiming her for the season. She just agreed to it."

James knew he'd deflected a conversation he hadn't even had with himself by his declaration, when Sirius' face fell. "So you may wanna think twice before laying hands on my Witch again," he added in a deadly serious tone. What surprised them both was that he meant it. And Padfoot knew it. Clapping Sirius on the shoulder, James offered with a grin, "Well, that is, without _asking_ first."

Remus rolled his eyes.

Sirius' grin returned full force and locked arms with James in their old way. "Oh you know I will, milord. All other hands and paws are off. Can't wait till the snakes learn about this one."

James grinned and with a quick shake they let their arms drop.

"Please oh please let me be the one to tell them! I can't miss the look on Reggie's face! It would make up for you threatening to tear my arm off earlier."

"I never said anything!"

Sirius tapped his head. "You don't have to mate. Told you you're too bloody obvious."

James shoved him hard enough to knock him into the window. "Am not you git!"

"Oi!" He laughed and tried to lock his arm the next time it aimed a jab. "Please there are ladies present!" He gestured to Pete who was too distracted with his damned color cube again.

"Sod off!" James laughed, winning instantly by threatening to muss Sirius' shag hair.

"Sounds great just don't touch the hair please!" Sirius had both hands over his head.

Remus sighed once they settled down again. "Hope Hermione hasn't lost her good opinion of us forever. What did I tell you two about taking it easy around her?"

Sirius had taken out his leftover stash of candy from a robe pocket. He too had already changed into his Gryffindor marked robes, with some of Marlene's help apparently. "Now Moony, you should know by now not to build her expectations!"

Remus' eyes kept darting to the cube now being tossed into the air by a too-easily-entertained Pete. "Padfoot, perhaps if you focused a bit more on—_Wormtail that's enough_!" He grabbed the cube midair.

Their rat made a faint squeak of protest. "Hey! I bought that with Grandmum's money you know!"

"Well you should have bought something else then shouldn't you?" Without another word the former Prefect had his wand out the cube vanished with a wink.

All was right with the world in an instant. And yet James' eyes scanned the hall on the other side of the glass nervously until Hermione returned, decked in black. Her eyes flickered to his and he scooted so he was next to Sirius. She sat next to him. And James realized everything from here on in would never be the same again.

His mates _knew_ how he felt, or at least thought they knew. They would be watching, and James, who always acted on impulse and rarely thought things through knew he'd slip up too many times to cover his tracks again. He wasn't clever like Moony or blasé like Padfoot when it came to women.

His fingers had linked with hers sometime during his thoughts. He hardly heard the argument still ensuing between Remus and Pete while the later tried to barter for his cube, or Sirius' amusing input.

Hermione didn't say anything but she did watch and laugh and even piped up to agree with Remus' reasoning.

_Typical…those two are cut from the same magic cloth._

James grinned as he watched her from the corner of his eye.

_This could work._

* * *

Hermione wore the ring that his mother had given her. It had a phoenix engraved round the tiny Potter crest and James was flying high every time a Slytherin took notice of the new piece of jewelry on their prize. It screamed loud to the world she was _his_, in a manner of speaking.

Dozens of their classmates and Housemates tried to get the Marauders attentions while they tried to avoid the crowd. As Head Boy he was required to help the others find their way and his mates hung back with him to do it. He refused to let go of Hermione's hand until she chose. He could practically feel her discomfort every time another Witch bounded up to them gushing and grimacing once they noted Hermione's presence and her ring. The Pure and Halfbloods knew what it meant anyhow. He thanked Godric when they had filled every carriage and all First Years were accounted for, and cursed Remus for not staying Prefect this year to help cover his arse.

He loved watching her drink in everything he took for granted. How tall Hagrid really was as he gathered the First Years around him and led them to the little boats. How she shivered at the sudden drop of temp so different to the heat wave back home. How she studied Hogsmeade village nearby and how at times her eyelashes would flutter every so often with surprise. Which included the enchanted carriages that pulled them down the lane to the castle ahead. Her eyes were fixed with amazement on the empty space in front of the carriage instead of smiling at Pete and Sirius' attempt to sing _Don't Be Witching Me _for the thousandth time that summer. Remus looked like he'd rather be anywhere but jammed between the two, head between his hands.

_Almost that time of the month again…_

He leaned over her ear, partly to avoid Moony's sensitive ears and ability to eavesdrop, and partly to smell her dark curls again. "What's the matter love?"

She jumped, startled and when she turned her head too quickly their noses brushed and both of them sucked in a sudden breath. James' fingers tightened on hers, eyes blazing down over her as she whispered. "I—I'm fine. I've just been watching the Thestrals."

His brow cocked in amusement, lopsided grin upturned as he peered at her over his glasses. "Thestrals? This something you remembered from a book?" He wondered why she flinched at his words.

"No…they're what pulls the carriages. You can't see them unless…unless you've…"

He finished for her with a soft smile, smoothing her furrowed brow with a touch to her chin. "Only if you've seen someone die." In answer to her surprise and slightly narrowed eyes, he added, "No I can't see them. Uncle Albus told me about them. He loves the odd birds." He laughed inwardly at his double meaning.

"Can they…" She nodded to the Marauders and James shook his head.

"No…" And if he had any say none of them ever would. He frowned however as the truth hit him. "Do you remember who?"

She stared at him blankly, yet with more sorrow in her eyes he wanted to murder the bastard for dying in the first place. "No. But I can feel it."

It didn't seem right to say anything else after that. He could have beaten himself with the end of his broom for making her feel worse than they had in the train before. At least he assumed Remus was right and they had made total arses of themselves. Which made him even more determined to make less than a half arse of himself the rest of the night. He couldn't stand seeing her so sad, and made Sirius' night and Remus' hell by joining in the chorus. "Ba—aby don't be witching me! You're love is all I need tonight!"

Her eyes widened and her mouth trembled as he crooned the words to _her_ dramatically.

"Merlin make it stop!" Remus moaned.

Sirius clapped the werewolf on the back and broke verse momentarily. "Come on mate gotta start the year off right! They better not be expecting us to tame down in our old age you know!"

James laid his head on Hermione's shoulder and batted his eyes as he sang the song he truly hated by this point.

Her resolve broke and her laughter echoed in the trees around them and seared straight to his gut.

* * *

Once the hell of his Head Boy duties were done once more, James and the Marauders found their reserved seating at the center of Gryffindor's long wood table. Not that it was actually reserved complete with nameplates but they had been known to leave a few surprises for anyone else who tried to claim their space.

He was nervous in the few minutes he had to leave her alone, with Sirius and Pete linking arms with her on either side. Remus shared a small grin with him that assured no matter what Padfoot tried it wouldn't get past him. Truly James was more worried about Sirius telling her more things she was better off not knowing. For example, what they had done to the Slytherin Quidditch team's undergarments last term and what James had to do to get access to the Gryffindor girls' dorms…

As students filtered in through Hogwarts Great Hall and found their respective tables, James noted the faces he had grown up around. Most smiled genuinely or jealously with shouts of, "_Hey Potter_!" or, "_glad _**_you're _**_Head Boy mate_!" And then there were the ones he reserved the better end of his wand for and didn't miss sending a stray hex or two while Evans was preoccupied.

The trail of her long red hair swung against the nearby candlelight and her emerald eyes sparkled at nearly everyone who passed her by. It had only ever been for he and Sirius she reserved that special glare. Much like on Diagon Alley, James had been friendly, but not _friendly_. And this time Lily Evans only spoke to him if she was required to.

Her first words on the train had been, _"Look I don't like this any more than you do Potter, but since we're stuck together the rest of the year let's try and make it painless as possible."_

He lifted a hand and saluted when her hard gemmed eyes grazed him and slipped his wand back up the sleeve of his robe.

Lily rolled her eyes as the last few students came trickling in. Slytherins at the rear as they should be. Yet her attention shifted the moment a very familiar greasy git came towards them.

James grinned at the remembrance of a hundred and forty pranks they had successfully dealt the Snake. Severus always gave as good as he got, but he couldn't fight them alone let alone together. And ever since he lost Lily's loyalty…

_What the hell?_

His smug grin fell the moment Severus Snape walked right up to Lily and she _smiled_ back at whatever shite he was saying.

_She can't seriously be trusting the wanker again can she?_

After all the times they had tried to prove his true Death Eating ways she was already back to him? There was something in the way Severus inclined his head towards her and the way her eyes softened. It was that special look he had only ever seen Evans use for Snivellus.

In that moment James felt like he'd just swallowed five pygmy puffs at once and wasted no time in leaving the scene that just made him lose his appetite. How could she forgive him after he finally admitted it? After calling her a _Mudblood_ last spring they had all been certain Snivellus was out of the picture. James had always known the Snake had the hots for Evans and that had been part of his reasoning to hex him to oblivion. Now for the first time he felt no jealousy attached to his revulsion. Instead he felt like he'd caught a bad case of Dragon Pox.

Thankfully he ran into his Quidditch team mates next. He was captain again this year! They'd give little Reggie Black a run for his galleons. His grin tilted, darkened as he sent a glare Slytherin's way. Head Boy or no, he wasn't backing out of the grand plan.

Beyond the shelter of the castle the clouds that had been banking all day began to give at last in a gusty torrent. Everlasting candles hovered high above and about them, lighting the Great Hall and the ceiling was enchanted to reflect the stars. Unlike the majority of the students, James recognized the spells. Uncle Albus had taught James many of his best tricks.

Professors had already found their seats at the head table. There went McGonagall ushering the First Years into their rows to be sorted. There was Nearly Headless Nick already chatting it up with several of his housemates along with the other excited Hogwarts ghosts.

Along the way he grinned through several rounds of, "Bet we beat Slytherin easy this year! No chance they'll make the Cup!" and "Ooh James! Why don't you sit with _us_!" yet his eyes were already way ahead of him.

The moment he caught sight of that unmistakable bushy head of mahogany curls his stomach flipped, his grin widened and stride quickened. All thoughts of snakes and pygmy puffs were exorcised the moment she turned her amber gaze to him and smiled.

Though the Marauders had flanked her, James managed to shove Sirius over and squeeze between them. Once more he reached for her hand underneath the table and locked their fingers. Her eyes were still wide in the same way as the first years up ahead.

"Overwhelmed?" He offered.

"I assume you're speaking of the fact I'm going to have to stand in front of hundreds of people I've never met in my life?"

"Yeah." James nodded seriously though his eyes betrayed humor behind his glasses.

Sirius stayed Pete's hand. "Oi! Not yet you prat! Not until I say so, remember?"

Peter nodded and grinned. "Right."

Remus rolled his eyes and looked up from the Daily Prophet. That was Moony for you, always with his nose in fine print. "Can't you wait until _after_ the Sorting?"

"But it's too brilliant to wait!" Sirius' head bobbed like the dog he was and he nudged James beside him. "Am I right mate?"

James grinned. "Have to agree. Though maybe Remus is right. Maybe we should wait. That way everyone will think we've gone soft and they won't be expecting it." Their eyes met, exactly the same glorious thoughts of surprise and terror once the first week was out.

"Yeah, and in the mean time we can stick to the classics!"

"Have to build up from somewhere," He offered, almost forgetting Hermione in his growing excitement. Nothing got his blood going like a well-planned prank war. Aside from flying and recently, the Witch beside him…

Sirius' grin had turned devilish. "And by the time we put the Big One into phase one they won't know what hit em."

"Just enough time to get Evans and Filch off their watch." He grimaced at the prospect of sharing time with the green eyed Witch.

"Agreed!" Sirius slapped his hand on James' shoulder, beaming with all his might.

Nothing Padfoot ever did, long as it was what he wanted to do, was halfway.

Peter had caught up in the excitement until he began to make eyes at Marlene McKinnon down the row.

James had always wondered why Wormtail would be okay taking their hand-me-downs.

He shared a grin with Remus. "Measure up to your standards Moony?"

"It'll do."

When he turned to share a grin with Hermione he found her eyes already following the Headmaster's approach to his enchanted podium. And just behind, the path of the Sorting Hat. Her grip also had tightened round his to a pressure point.

"Hermione?" He breathed closer to her face and grinned when she barely turned her head. "If you keep squeezing my hand like that I might need a new one."

Her eyes widened and then a shaky grin broke her tense brow. "Sorry…I just wish Albus would let me do this in private instead of in front of all these people! What if—if there's someone here who _does_ know me?"

James shrugged. "If Dumbledore thought you would be in danger here he wouldn't have invited you, let alone tell everyone you're his niece. So far everyone who's met you only sees that anyway."

Sirius, who was notorious for eavesdropping as Moony, only he never tried to hide it, leant forward with a grin. "Don't worry Mione. I swear on sweet Salazar's loins all of em will find their arse on the ground before they can touch you."

"Thanks Sirius." Hermione smiled at his best mate in a way that made James wish he were ugly as Snape.

The Great Hall had buzzed with softly spoken voices, carried to the castle rafters where everlasting candles floated, echoed back a dim hush as the gray bearded Headmaster took his place.

The hush was so sudden that Peter's attempt to get Marlene McKinnon's attention down the table was far louder than he intended and their fellow Gryffindor's laughed at the Marauder's red cheeks. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at them from above his half-moon spectacles briefly and the laughter instantly faded. His purple robes gleamed with tiny glowing emblems of the sun. And James felt his Godfather's glance stray to Hermione longer than necessary before returning to the rest.

His voice carried easily without any charm, as calming as he intended for it to be. "Good evening! I would like to welcome you all back this year to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I hope you all enjoyed a sunny summer and did not catch any case of the Wizard's Flu. This year promises to be just as challenging and exciting as the last. And I hold you all to no higher expectations than what I know each are capable of, no matter your origins. I am sure some of you know that a few of our treasured students will not be returning this term, as a result of the growing terror that threatens our world. I trust you shall all stay vigilant and above all try to enjoy the time you have been gifted."

James felt Hermione's fingers tighten against his. He felt somewhat guilty in fact. He hadn't listened to much of his Godfather's speech. It was difficult with her beside him. But he recognized the tone of the old Warlock's words for it was one he'd overheard in his father's "man cave" before fires many nights of late. And the reminder made him only more determined to protect _her_.

"On a brighter note!" With a tap of his hands and a swap of doom for joy the Headmaster continued. "Before we dive into my favorite dessert, I would like to make note of a new transfer student in our midst." Lifting a ringed hand he pointed to Gryffindor's table and smiled. "Miss Hermione Dumbledore. Would you please make your way to the Sorting Hat?"

Squeezing his fingers extra tight, she turned to meet his eyes and breathed through her fears. Her palm beneath his fingers was scarred from the glass that had cut into it the day they met. Things she could not remember haunted her amber stained eyes.

The other Marauders had reached around to share their good wishes and assurances of which House she already belonged.

And all he could do was lean slightly forward with a goofy arrogant grin and say, "Time to go piss the Snakes off. Make me proud, love."

He knew he succeeded when her frown turned into a shaky grin as she disentangled herself from the table and his grip.

Bushy-haired head held high, she walked forward, possessed with a confidence he had rarely seen in her or anyone, for that matter.

James tried to be optimistic. He tried listening to Sirius's whispered assurances beside him and Peter's repetition of said assurances. He knew the nod Remus gave that was meant to encourage him. Yet he couldn't shake his fears. What if she didn't make Gryffindor? She may be a Ravenclaw at heart with her knowledge. And he would never peg her for Hufflepuff. But what if…

_Hold it together mate…but what if she does?_

James knew one thing for certain. If she placed into Slytherin there was little he could do to protect her without breaking almost every rule in the handbook. And he _would _break them, badge be damned.

_Please…let it be Gryffindor…let it be Gryffindor!_

With only a passing glance for the Headmaster, Hermione picked the Sorting Hat from its little chair and taking her seat before the eyes of the Great Hall, placed the hat on her head.

* * *

**Review: Which House should Hermione be sorted into and why? Not saying I don't already know, but I am curious to your opinion!**


	17. II: breaking boundaries

**A/N: Some of you might not forgive me for what I am about to do, but just hang in there with it and trust me ;) You won't be disappointed if you do.**

* * *

**Part 2: HOGWARTS**

**Chapter 17**

**breaking boundaries**

* * *

"Hermione, I do not believe you are being quite honest with me…" His blue eyes smiled at her above his half moon spectacles. "Beetle tart?"

Hermione wrinkled her nose at the tarts squirming within her Uncle's proffered bowl. "Ah…no thank you." Playing with the edges of her Hogwarts robes, still amazed with how much colder it was here in this drafty castle on the edge of Scotland, she pushed past her aversion to eating jumping magical food. "Uncle, how does this have anything to do with regaining my memories?"

She was far beyond the edge of forgiving by this point. Much as she loved the Headmaster, who insisted she call him Uncle in private, he also tended to push her places she didn't want to go.

Thus far in their first two sessions, they spent the majority of their time spanning topics such as Chocolate Frog Cards, what she thought about the Whomping Willow to how she was enjoying being James's escort. None of this had anything to do with gaining her memories back. And just when Hermione was content to let them stay buried and forgotten, her Uncle had to press her into dragging them up.

They hadn't tried using Legillimens again and he had been reluctant to use his Pensieve to collect her burrowed memories. Perhaps it was because of how hard the curse binding her fought any invasive magical force.

Instead in their mandatory sessions, every Monday morning after breakfast in the Great Hall, Hermione and the Headmaster exchanged tea conversation and occasionally a sharp reprimand.

As before, while his mouth was schooled into that ever-whimsical smile, his eyes twinkled with hidden thoughts. "Ah but you see my dear," he said, "they are so intrinsically tied!" Setting down his treat cup he took a sip of tea. "It is important that you make new memories, is it not? And it is important that we appear nothing less than a loving Uncle and his devoted niece, yes?"

Grudgingly she nodded and scowled into her tea cup. "I'm not saying these sessions aren't important. They—they're important to me too, Uncle Albus…it's just…" She frowned, surprised for her lack of better words.

Softly as ever he guided her. "You wonder how your cursed mind will be able to reconcile this new life you have been gifted?"

Her eyes widened.

_Hadn't quite thought of it so bluntly, but now that you mention it…_

She hadn't thought of it like that at all. And yet once he said it Hermione realized she _had_ been thinking it every single day in some way. Every time she drew back from making new friends among her House and Classmates. Every time she roamed the grounds or halls with only ghosts and ghosts of memories for company. Every time she avoided invitations from the Marauders. Not that she _could_ avoid them, even if she wanted to. But beyond classes and their meetings in the Head common room every night, she avoided their paths like the plague. And it was becoming impossible to avoid James…

When their eyes met again she returned his knowing smile sheepishly. He hadn't read her thoughts this time. She would have felt it otherwise. But she was beginning to discover she had a too-expressive face when lost to her thoughts. And it was so easy to be lost.

"Hermione, I only ask that you continue to make lasting memories of your own. The more you accept this life, to make it your own and as you stop avoiding the ones who seek to help you own it, the easier the transition will be when your memories _do _choose to reveal themselves." Standing from his chair and moving away from the fireside, he crossed to pet Fawkes, purple and silver robes changing to twilight gray in the morning sunlight.

She smiled because of the phoenix crest round her neck and because she too was wearing a violet sundress beneath her heavy woolen robes today and in that moment never felt more of a Dumbledore.

_Make new memories…right. Easier said than done…_

Her heart sank. The only trouble with making new memories meant doing just what the Headmaster ordered. Letting people in. She hadn't been blind to Remus' curious looks, Sirius' frustration or James' pensive eyes, or even Pete's sad face every time she said no to a match of Wizard's Chess.

For the past two weeks she had done a fair job of keeping the image of the devoted student, head in her books, when in fact, the knowledge was already tucked away in her mind. Only twice thus far had Hermione needed to actually consult a heavy tome. She hadn't dared to set foot in the library, even though something within her yearned for it. Seeing the endless sea of titles, filled with words already imprinted in her mind, made her head spin with recalled information. She did not want a repeat of what happened in the library at Potter Manor.

Instead she had taken a hand to writing down her recent memories. Dumbledore gifted her with the empty magical journal her first day of classes, during their first session, called it a potential memory charm. And as she had taken to keeping her innermost thoughts to herself of late, she could easily be found pouring into the thick yellow pages. Never mind that her roommates thought her mental. Let them think her a bookworm, a cool, highborn Pureblood. Schoolwork was like a breeze to her, hardly challenging.

_People_ were Hermione's challenge.

Fawkes cried a note of his beautiful song and Uncle Albus crooned softly spoken words back before saying, "I believe if you run, you might make it to Arithmancy on time, my dear."

"Right. Thank you for the tea Uncle." With a wry grin Hermione set her undetectable extended satchel around her neck, pressed her palm against the edge of her wand as she stood and shivered at the pulse of magic that threaded through her fingertips. She'd been able to avoid using it much so far, something she avoided letting her Professors and classmates know and of which Uncle thought highly amusing.

"Do not forget our discussion my dear!" he called after her as she approached the stone gargoyle. "Oh and do keep an eye out for Nargels would you? I believe they have taken to stealing my slippers of late."

"I will Uncle Albus," Hermione answered as the floor shifted beneath her and then she was facing an empty hallway, with the distant hum of voices brushing the ancient stone.

Tugging for a moment on the thick side braid she had tamed her dark curls into and steeling her nerves, she walked away from the shelter of the gargoyle and listened to it slide back into place.

As had become her habit in the first two weeks of school, Hermione did what she did best. She thought in the blessed silence as she marched to her class and hoped no one else decided to take the shortcut today. She had found it by accident, while roaming the halls one morning. There she found a room that opened to a secret tunnel that connected to _another_ room. A set of stairs curled down a corridor just beyond and safely guided to the desired hallway.

Upon entering the first abandoned classroom she made a beeline through dusty cobwebbed desks from a different era, holding up her bare hand and willing the light to emit just above it. It was far safer than whispering a _lumos_ with her wand, though Hermione had figured the charm closely related. The silvery light flickered off the silent walls as she found the hidden passage and trekked farther.

She couldn't help to think of the Marauders at a time like this. Could she really risk spending more time with them? With baited breath she wondered, could she allow herself to hold James's hand again?

She remembered the first time she had refused his touch since she had met him, not long after the Sorting Ceremony.

Hermione shivered. Even now the memory of her conversation with the Hat troubled her…

_She set the hat on her own head, something that was unheard of. Professor McGonagall always placed the hat on the First Years. Yet Dumbledore instructed her, as she was already in a unique situation, to do things a bit differently._

_And to her utmost mortification, with hundreds of eyes upon her, the Hat didn't even speak the first few seconds until…_

"**_Hmmm…very strange…very strange indeed! Hard to place you, very hard to place you! You're different. Something dark clouds your mind. It's far too blank, and yet I have known you before I feel. Yes…I have known you Hermione Dumbledore. You are powerful, behind that dark cloud, very powerful!_**

**_You could be great you know…few Witches have been so great as you could become. Slytherin would be the perfect place to teach you to wield your strengths. Yet perhaps you are too dangerous for them? Hmmm…_**_"_

_Hermione froze and kept her eyes shut. She held her breath. Slytherin? That was where Regulus Black was and all the other Purebloods James and Sirius were so set protecting her against. But she had never thought of protecting the Snakes from herself!_

_The Hat chuckled to itself, continuing its inner monologue, "_**_Gryffindor is a place for bravery and I feel is where you belong…yet you are filled with too much fear. You show more cunning…_**_"_

_Her eyes did open then, and somehow amid the sea of endless faces she found the pair of bespectacled hazel eyes and couldn't escape that unnamable sorrow that filled her when she saw his face._

"**_Ravenclaw…that would be a safer bet. You have knowledge! It's barely hidden just behind the cloud in your mind, but clear to see! How strange! As though every page were copied to your thoughts. And yet you would teach Ravenclaw to use that knowledge not them teach you!_**_"_

"Stop it!" The small girl's voice wailed from the other side of the door Hermione had just opened.

She blinked past the memory, of what Sirius later called, the longest sorting they had ever witnessed all seven years. Even Dumbledore looked nervous at one point, Peter claimed. And Hermione had much rather forget everything the Sorting Hat had said while digging into her mind.

She had not spoken up for herself, feeling she did not deserve to have any influence on the Hat's decision and trusting it as it had sorted thousands of Hogwarts students before.

"Why should we? When every breath you take is another waste of space." An older yet cracking male voice answered the small girls' protests.

His friend laughed in even higher pitch. "You clearly are a waste of space if you even thought of talking to _us_."

"Give it back you lout!" There was fear in her voice.

So Hermione's walked faster, unable to shake her growing anger. She recognized the voice and her fear was confirmed the moment she rounded the corner and found two Ravenclaw boys twirling the First Year's bag high above their heads with their wands.

They laughed and Hermione's eyes narrowed. She recognized these two. They were two years beneath her. She shouted, "Oi!" taking a note from Peter, marched up to them and tried very hard _not_ to grab her wand in the process. "Give her the bag you gits!"

The teens turned to assess their challenge only to blush up to their ears. Grinning and shoving each other slightly, they made no offer to lower the girl's bag.

The taller blonde, Scamander grinned. "Hermione! You're looking ravishing this morning!"

His friend, Selwyn hissed, "Not so loud you berk!" and smiled back with his beady green eyes.

Hermione glanced past them to the First Year she had first met in Diagon Alley weeks ago and her eyes widened at the tears streaking the Muggleborn's face. "Why are you picking on her? She's only a First Year you idiots! She can't even defend herself! Do you even realize what kind of self-absorbed pompous gits think it worthy to stoop to such a level?"

The two Ravenclaws looked affronted at the intellectual barb. Yet both had the decency to duck their heads a bit. It was Selwyn that did it for her.

"Why should we apologize?" he asked. "Westmoreland here thought she could have a crush on Scamander here when his dad's bloody famous! Told the whole school she'd snag a fifth year, she did! Not that a Muggleborn's gossip takes his chances away from asking you—_ow_!"

Scamander jabbed his friend roughly in the elbows to stop him, but Hermione was seething. She could feel the magic threatening to explode just beneath her skin.

_What kind of bullshit excuse..._

Unable to contain herself she thrust up a hand and the book bag trembled in the air against their meager spells and fell to the floor with a pop. Her audience's eyes widened, yet despite the warning voice in her head that sounded eerily like Dumbledore she could care less.

It was obviously Selwyn's influence. The stuck up Pureblood had puffed Scamander up to making him a prat this year, all because of his dad's bloody new book!

Scamander spoke up, "Look, sorry we just thought we'd teach her a lesson is all."

Hermione marched until she was looking down her nose at the Pureblood. "You're no better than a Slytherin if you think it okay to terrorize First Years! She's only twelve! And probably never intended for those rumors to spread in the first place! And I bet she's glad that she never told _you_ after seeing what an arse you can be!"

Selwyn smirked. "You say we're so bad, but what about the Marauders? They seem to think they can run this school and I've seen them hex more than the _Slytherins_." His eyes drifted over her robes.

_That's it._

Hermione took a deep breath. She was about to lose it!

She _would_ have lost it were it not for the sudden pair of hands that grabbed her shoulders and pulled her away.

"So sorry to interrupt mates! Thank you so much for finding my darling Hermione! I've been looking everywhere for you missy!" Sirius Black shook his finger at her face, stepping between them and winking down at her. He looked thoroughly disheveled, no doubt from another snog session with Emmeline Vance. He caught her scrutiny and his grin only widened as he turned and lanced an arm over her shoulders. Pointing to the boys as an afterthought, he added, "Oh and you may want to think twice before messing with a Gryffindor, mates." He grinned and nodded to the wide-eyed yet beaming Leah.

"Thanks Hermione!" She darted past them bag in tow once more.

And then Sirius was guiding them further down the hall, calling over his shoulder. "Really would love to let her tear into both of you, but I'll let that wait for another day. Unless you both really want your reputations to go down the drain _permanently_ if you know what I mean." He grinned wickedly and that was that.

Scamander and Selwyn grumbled to one another as they raced to be late for their next class, the former with a mournful glance for Hermione. And Hermione realized just how close to losing it she had been before Sirius showed up. She sighed and accepted his touch, which was more than she had allowed James of late. By the way his eyebrow's arched Padfoot noticed.

"You okay love? Look a bit peaky. Though after standing that close to Selwyn I'm surprised you managed not to vomit all over his pug face. How did the chat with dear Uncle go?" Wagging his eyebrows he pressed his luck and tightened his hold round her shoulders.

"Same as usual." Hermione still couldn't help but wonder as they walked how Sirius managed to be almost as good in Arithmancy as she was. Who would have thought the scatterbrained Marauder had a head for figures, or that they would share a class together. In fact, she was surprised to find she shared every class with at least one Marauder.

She wanted to pull away. Sirius always managed to find and escort her just before their Monday morning class. She'd gotten very good at listening to him talk of his exploits, yet giving little response in return. After all, everything she told Sirius was as good as telling James.

Yet the Headmaster's words echoed in her mind, 'S_top avoiding the ones who seek to help you own it,'_ and settled for a smirk. "You have lipstick all over your face," she said and felt braver than she had in a long time.

* * *

"Good morning class! I trust you all have your essays polished and shining!"

A chorus of repressed groans answered Slughorn's opening announcement as the walrus of a man waddled into the classroom. None of the students had reacted favorably to their Potions Professor's curriculum thus far. Though he did make things interesting at times with his constant cozying up to her classmates, Hermione was ready to actually brew a potion other than their review of living death. This _was_ supposed to be an advanced course after all.

The knowledge in her mind after all made it far too easy. She was itching to actually learn something that did not annoyingly pop up in her mind.

The cauldron on his desk was already steaming, though Hermione did not want to know why he would leave a standing potion available to any ignorant student. She had tested it before class just to be certain it was not hazardous. From her impression of Slughorn so far she wouldn't have been surprised if it was.

The Potions Master waved his wand with a flourish. "Essays out, please!"

Hermione had spent much of her time at Hogwarts studying in her common room. So it wasn't surprising her Advanced Potions essay appeared to be the thickest and the most neatly margined.

Her lab partner's on the other hand looked half that size. She discreetly glanced over at it and was surprised by his sudden scrutiny and mocking grin.

Regulus Black was very good at catching her when she tried not to sneak glances at him. He was very good at noticing the things Hermione did not want others to notice about her. Compared to Sirius' brief description of his little brother, Hermione wondered if he had ever known the Slytherin truly at all.

Regulus was intelligent enough that he had been placed in Advanced Potions with the 7th years, though he took no other NEWT level courses. Yet it was unheard of to skip courses in Hogwarts and Hermione was keen to learn how he'd managed it. From what she learned through whispers in the House, Black was much more dangerous than he let on. The times Hermione knew it were when he took time to shoot glares at Peter Pettigrew seated on the row across from them.

"_Accio essays!"_Slughorn commanded and the scrolls came darting at him in a comical heap. The last scroll nearly caught the Potions Master in the eye. That was when she caught the twitch of Regulus' wand hand beneath the table with her narrowed gaze.

The Gryffindor's snickered and the Slytherins around her seemed to hiss insults back.

She tilted her chin up; hands folded on top of the table but did not miss her lab partner's not-so-subtle sapphire wink.

She couldn't help her sigh and couldn't believe she had been partnered with the git. It wouldn't have done at all to sit beside Peter much as she wanted to. Not if she wanted to maintain the image Dumbledore encouraged her to uphold. She needed to be strongly positioned just under the nose of the dark, not parading around with the light.

It was the only way she could learn the truth about her curse and she suspected, keep an eye on the junior Death Eaters for Albus. If she carried that ambition another step farther, she wouldn't have been surprised if he had intentions of her becoming a double agent.

And that meant she couldn't spend too much time seen with the Marauders. Sitting beside Sirius in Arithmancy and Remus in Ancient Runes was already enough insult to the Pure and Noble House of Slytherin.

"Now class, I am certain you have noticed this potion I was brewing sitting on my desk." Folding his hands before his waistcoat, Slughorn rocked from heel to toe, eyes skimming over the sea of heads. "Can anyone take a guess what that potion might be?"

Silence echoed his question.

Hermione glanced around the room, bored holes into Snivellus Snape's back just in front of her. How could _he_ keep that sarcastic tongue silent? Everyone knew Snape, though a greasy git, was brilliant with potions. Even the scarlet haired beauty beside him glanced hesitantly at his stony face by his side.

Her frown deepened when Slughorn began to speak again and before she could restrain her hand it took a life of its own.

Her Professor beamed with pride. "Ah, Miss Dumbledore! Care to share with the rest of your classmates?"

She felt Black's eyes shift her way with that infuriating crooked grin of his. And her resolve to best him won over the voice of reason in her head. From the textbook page in her head, she quoted, "That is Felix Felicis or Liquid Luck and it provides an exhilarating boost of confidence when consumed. It has been banned from being used in sporting events, examinations and elections and taken in large quantities considered deadly."

Slughorn ignored the edge to her tone and clapped his hands briefly together. "Good observation! Excellent! Ten points to Slytherin, Miss Dumbledore!"

The Gryffindors looked scornfully at her, save one small smirk from Peter.

The Slytherins preened in their seats, ever proud to have the infamous Miss Dumbledore a member of their House. Not only was she _nearly _the most eligible Pureblood Heiress at Hogwarts but also uncommonly smart.

Hermione believed her intelligence to be a byproduct of the dark curse that had taken her body and placed barricades around her memories. Why else would she have a photographic memory of every textbook she owned before reading it?

She ignored the smug glances Regulus Black kept sending her.

_Think you have it figured out, don't you Black?_

"I am very pleased to announce to you that I have gained permission for you all to brew your own draught of Liquid Luck!"

Her eyes widened. The Gryffindors groaned audibly while the Slytherins' eyes gleamed with greed.

Even Snape's shoulders stiffened as Evans began to whisper furtively. And it was the fiery spirited Evans whose hand shot into the air this time with purpose.

"Yes Miss Evans?"

"Professor, forgive me but how can you expect us to brew a successful draught of Liquid Luck? As I understand not only is the process extremely difficult, but it's not even in our text."

Slughorn's eyes gleamed. "Ah yes indeed it is not in our text Miss Evans! Yet this process I trust will test you, to see if you are sincere in your devotion to the art of Potions. I have placed the instructions and ingredients upon the board behind me. Please carefully copy them down now." At the end of his speech the words appeared behind the balding Wizard. He finished with, "You may do as you see fit once you have finished, to either catch a head start or prepare yourselves in your common rooms. I shall have your essays graded and back to you next class."

Hermione frowned at the blackboard. This was a test all right… As a new student of Slytherin thinking, she saw the potential to rise beyond her other classmates the same moment she feared the attention.

The potion would not be impossible, though improbable any of her classmates would meet with success. Even now she could tell from their expressions who would almost succeed and who would fail. They whispered amongst themselves to their Housemates.

The Professor, she found to her surprise, was right. This test would show push them far and beyond their NEWTS come next term, and make the rest of their curriculum a breeze. She penned the information studiously.

_Finally a challenge…_

Slughorn began to hum to himself as he walked up and down the aisles. It did not pass Hermione's attention that he paused beside her table, or his subtle wink when he met her glance.

_Bastard thinks I can do it…What's he playing at? Oh dear. I'm starting to sound like Sirius._

Frowning at the quill in her hands she jumped when a smooth voice breathed against her ear. "Wishing you had signed up for Divination about now?" Regulus grinned when she bit back a screech and shoved him aside.

"Did it ever occur to you that I am not one of those senseless twats you keep on your arm?"

His eyebrows lifted, one of those expressions that eerily resembled his brother. "Did it occur to you I might prefer bushy haired heiresses instead of the twats who hang onto me?"

She might have almost felt guilty were it not for the twitch at the edge of his mouth. Scooting to keep as wide a berth as possible from him, she retorted, "And did it occur to you I mean it when I say I'm taken?"

Regulus snorted. "Potter? The Gryffindor Golden Boy? You hardly spend five minutes in his presence and can't seem to stand even that much. Not that I blame you. Evans couldn't either. Of course I could care less who you feel obligated to play escort to the Gala with." His eyes narrowed upon the ring round her finger, the one that bore James' family crest. He reached to examine it and Hermione jerked away burned. "Not even this should dictate how you lead your life Hermione."

"_Don't _call me Hermione." She seethed.

"Well what should I call you? Witch? Bewitching? Or perhaps whatever _he_ calls you." He was baiting her again. Only two weeks and they had already had a row every class. Every time it seemed to come back to James.

_Why can't he let this go?_

Lily Evans had turned slightly during their argument, emerald eyes sparked with something Hermione did not care to identify. She meant the Gryffindor Head Girl no ill will, but thought the girl too nosy for someone who had never actually dated James Potter.

"Lily, if you were finished…" Severus drawled in his low velvety drone, capturing Evans' attention again.

Regulus was waiting for Hermione's reply, damned grin still in place.

Instead of responding to him Hermione shut her notebook and began to pocket her things without giving him another glance.

"Hermione," changing tactics he tried at playful banter, "you know I'm only looking out for you. Mother insisted I protect you from any harmful influences that might hold you back. We know you're capable of so much more without those Marauders hanging all over you."

"I believe I have enough without your help Mr. Black. And even if I didn't, I am quite capable of handling my own affairs. Perhaps you should be more worried about your own." She could hear him shuffling his things together, probably in a nonchalant effort to catch up with her. But she was faster and he had his own reputation to uphold.

Her eyes locked with a pair of sympathetic emerald green again, before she turned and marched out of the classroom as quickly as could casually be executed.

Slughorn's potion could wait. Hermione needed some air to forget about Black and the fact he alone managed to tear down her guard. Regulus Black always had a bad habit of saying the exact opposite of what she wanted to hear.

She hadn't wanted to think about the fact she wasn't holding up her end of the bargain with James as his escort. Dorea's gift scorched her conscience every time she went through her trunk each morning. Almost as much as the owls her surrogate mother religiously sent every week.

James's bold eyes followed her every meal in the Great Hall. He still hadn't convinced her to break a few necks by eating at Gryffindor with them. _Where she belonged_, according to him. Even Remus seemed baffled by the Sorting Hat's decision.

Though the boys swore their allegiance to her no matter what House she belonged to, they made it no secret they were considering stealing a Time Turner from the Ministry to put her in her rightful place.

It was no surprise to Hermione. She alone knew the Sorting Hat's thoughts. She knew she was not brave. Maybe she had been, once upon a time. But whatever it was that scarred her hands and clouded her past made her a much more cautious Witch. She might not be as naturally cunning as a Slytherin ought to be, but she was powerful. Above all she knew she was tainted with the Dark Arts and that a deep unaccessed part of her affirmed she deserved to bunk with a house full of snakes.

Not all Slytherins were as bad as Sirius and James insisted. To hear them and the other Gryffindors talk, one would think the Snakes were the masterminds behind the budding War and not Voldemort. Black, Snape and their Death Eater goons aside, there were several others who danced on the fringe of the House power struggle. She was considered one of these, beyond the constant betrayals and intrigues because she was a Dumbledore. Because she was filthy rich and the escort of the Pureblooded, future _Lord_ Potter.

The boys of her house were slippery in their efforts to attract her attention. Because of her they hated the Marauders even more than all the past six years combined. The hexing war had been done behind teachers' backs and beyond sight of much of the Hogwarts populous. It was only a matter of time before things got out of hand.

Remus dubbed it their equivalent to the Muggle Cold War. It was as much about the pranks as defending her honor, Remus claimed.

Because of this Hermione tried to stay away from her closest and only true friends. Only two weeks into the fall term and Pete had been in the infirmary because of a nasty hex. She had known from the moment she woke in Potter Manor she would one day hurt them. Thus far, her time in Hogwarts proved it.

Yet Hermione almost preferred the Slytherin method of friendship. Little trust was afforded in Salazar's ambitious House. The good thing was no one asked her detailed questions about her past other than her relation to the Headmaster.

Once they knew she wasn't talking, they allowed her to act on her own so long as she kept her Gryffindor sympathies quiet.

"Hey Hermione!" James' voice carried from the staircase above and Hermione froze. The back hairs of her neck rose, being caught taking yet another detour to her special place. As she looked up her fingers tightened on the stone rail and her heart raced to see the windswept bespectacled boy skipping two steps a time to reach her. And once he was finally upon her, hazel eyes burning brightly, eyes drinking her in as if he hadn't seen her in years instead of hours, hands clenching at his sides as his mouth twisted from speech and to his carefree grin, Hermione froze up.

_Don't shut him out…Black was wrong. I _**_do _**_enjoy being with James and I can prove it!_

"So, Slughorn let you out early eh?" He was so much taller than her, especially a step above her, and with the sun coming in golden from the tower window he seemed even taller.

Blinking stupidly she nodded. "Yes he wanted us to take a study hour to work on our new assignment…" She felt guilty realizing she was wasting time the Professor had given them.

James' grin widened. "And you finally came up for air after holing up in those dungeons!"

His enthusiasm was so contagious, his grin so golden that Hermione felt herself warming up and smiled softly in turn. "Something like that."

"Ready to admit you've been studying _too_ much?" Tilting his forehead his eyes peeked at her from the edge of his rims.

Hermione rolled her eyes and attempted to step past him up the next stair. Waving aside his comment and not about to admit he may be right, she said, "Of course not! Remember I'm not the one who still hasn't started that essay for McGonagall."

James laughed and bounded up beside her and they continued a steady ascent towards the entrance hall. "McGonagall knows I'm brilliant though! I always make O's in her class!"

"And that gives you the excuse to slack off and prank Snape?" She kept her chin up, refusing to glance at him though she couldn't help the smile twitching her lips. The last one _had_ been brilliant she had to admit.

James spread his hands wide. "What? You know he had that one coming. I didn't intend for his hair to stay pink the whole of first week!"

Hermione barely held back her laughter. That had been hilarious to see Snape's pasty skin turn red with embarrassment and Evans go ballistic on the Head Boy.

"You're Head Boy." She felt like she reminded him least once every other day. "You might want to be less obvious. What I still want to know is how you managed to sneak into the Slytherin boys dorm." Turning up her head to narrow her eyes in scrutiny she found him rigidly faced ahead trying to keep his grin hidden.

"How do you know it was me who pulled it off? That's what I told Evans and everyone else who asked. Just because I'm a likely suspect doesn't mean it was me."

"Uhuh…" Hermione rolled her eyes and stepped onto a moving staircase. When James joined her, the stairs began to shift down. Turning to face the Marauder found him leaned towards her once more, this time at eye level. "James, everyone knows that Sirius is the voice but you and Remus are the masterminds behind all your little schemes. One day Dumbledore isn't going to turn the other way."

James scoffed. "Uncle Albus? He was worse than me! Didn't you hear he and dad's stories during holidays? Its because of them we know half of the secret passages we do." His mood shifted instantly. "Speaking of secret passages…Sirius still hasn't found how you come from the Headmaster's office to the hall outside Arithmancy."

Tucking her chin to hide her smile, she said, "Maybe he should focus less on Vance's face and he might notice more." The stairs reconnected and she twisted and stepped onto the new hall.

James grasped her fingers just as they pulled from the railing and held her hand as they kept on. "You know it'd just a phase with Padfoot. He and Vance had a casual thing fifth year too. It's just what he does."

Hermione frowned. She'd noticed this about Sirius too and wasn't so sure it was healthy, even though the idea of benefits without commitment was appealing to her inner fears. Without thinking, she asked, "Is that what you used to do?"

Their eyes met briefly, James' grin fading, brow furrowed. He ran a hand through his black hair. "Well, sort of I suppose. Third year was when we started noticing girls. Fifth year, Sirius and me made a bet to see how many girls we could get to kiss us."

Her eyes widened. "Who won the bet?"

James glanced at her from beneath his brow and only grinned. "That year? Let's just say Sirius hadn't found his stride just yet."

Disgusted, she tried to pull from his grip. How many girls that looked their way had kissed him? She couldn't explain the anger that rose up in her, or the jealousy.

James only laughed and held her hand tighter. "Mione I didn't mean it like that! I'm not some man-whore okay? It was only sixteen tarts, yeah? And five have already graduated. Fifth years don't see much action anyway."

Icily, she said, "You might have warned me sooner. I need to know who to watch my back around."

James laughed again and kept walking slightly turned in front of her, always managing to avoid bumping into passing students. Some eyed their Head Boy with curiosity and amusement. "It was two years ago Hermione. I don't think I was that good."

"Its your fault if I get hexed because of you," she grumbled and shifted her bag further up her shoulder, eyes on the large double doors. With a flick of her hand the door cracked open and the waning sunlight spilled in. She tried to loose his hand again with even less success.

James was silent until they came outside and came at last to the grounds. "If I didn't know better I'd say you were jealous, love."

His words caused her to pause just outside the castle walls, turn and face him. She didn't know how the sunset looked a rosy halo behind her. Poking her free finger into his chest, she said, "What are you doing outside of Muggle Studies anyhow James M. Potter? I have break until dinner but you shouldn't have got out of class another hour."

Rather than look sheepish he had the audacity to smile and take a step closer. "You don't have to be jealous of those other girls, Mione."

Narrowing her eyes she confronted him. "You skipped class again didn't you? Remus has a free period then doesn't he? What did you do?" She poked his chest again and tried not to loose herself in him. His smell was all around her, something rich in his clothes she had never been able to place, along with wind and grass and sandalwood. His eyes seemed to glow against his tanned face and the wind picked up and ruffled his black hair till she nearly helped it along with her fingers.

"Just some Head Boy duties. Nothing involving too much mischief. Where were you going in such a hurry?" He tossed his gaze at the grounds around them with a curious quirk of his dark brow.

_My special place and the only place I have left to myself these days…_

She berated herself. So occupied she was with James Potter, she had nearly taken him with her. Caught she kept her expression burrowed and stony as the walls of her House. "I was going to visit Hagrid."

James' eyes widened. "Hagrid? I didn't even think you knew him."

Lifting her chin, she asked, "And you don't?"

"That's not what I said. Of course I know Hagrid! Everyone does!"

"So no need to act surprised then." With a coy grin she used his surprise to pull her hand free and marched on down the hill. Though she didn't turn to see if James would follow, and half hoped he wouldn't, she was surprised when he broke into a run and pass her.

Frowning, she watched him twist and jog backwards down the hill with a cocky grin. "Bet I reach his hut before you do!"

It was childish. It was ridiculous. There were a dozen or more rocks along their path just waiting for her clumsy feet. Yet there was a challenge in his grin and excitement in his hazel eyes. They looked so dark in that moment. Biting her lip she glanced back at the castle and thanked the fates no one else seemed to be around.

She had never really tried running before. Who was to say she wasn't good at it? And so without warning she jumped and leaped towards a laughing James.

His laugh turned into a shout when she shoved him hard to the ground with a flick of her hand and some nonverbal magic. "Oi! Foul play!"

And then she was flying.

Her lungs burned, her heartbeat pounded in her head and her hair flew a stream with her robes in the wind behind her. It took everything she had not to trip down the dip in the hill, yet smoke was puffing steadily before her, a lamp in the near distance.

_Not too far._

Faintly she heard James scuffle and his feet pound to catch up.

Hermione laughed out loud when her foot hit a rock and she pushed off it. Rather than getting tired she only felt a strange joy she hadn't known before, or at least could not remember.

James' laugh echoed hers. Easily he called out, just behind her. "You'll have to do better than that Dumbledore!" His face was at her side suddenly, grinning like an idiot.

She shrieked and this time physically tried to push him aside. It just so happened that James wasn't expecting this tactic and tripped again on a pile of rocks, arms flailing into the air.

Her laughter was loud and breathless as she began to feel a stitch in her side. But she ignored it. This was the most fun she had had since before Hogwarts. It was the most she had let herself enjoy being with James Potter and the closest to normal she had felt since that night in the Potter's Quidditch Pitch.

Hagrid's hut was only a few more meters away now. She was going to beat him, short legs and all!

She ran faster and nearly reached the high wooden door when a pair of arms wrapped round her waist. Screeching with surprise she was lifted into the air and twisted so that James crashed back first into the door.

"Gotcha!" His chest heaved behind her, warm breath against her ear.

Hermione stared wide-eyed at the hill they had just raced down and realized she was still off the ground. "You won!" She gasped between gulps of the cool air.

"You sound surprised."

She could hear his grin even though she couldn't see it. And suddenly, without reason Hermione burst out in a fit of giggles. "You cheated!" She managed between her laughter.

James' chest shook with his own chuckles and incredulous but not letting go of her just yet he laughed into her hair. "You cheated first! Twice I might add! Very Slytherin of you Mione…"

Neither could find their wits once they lost them. An outside observer might have suspected neither wanted to find them. Finding their wits meant that he could not hold her so closely or she lean back into his embrace so easily without it meaning more.

No, it was much safer to forget.

Forget they were very visible members of opposing Houses and the repercussions that came with it.

Forget that a coming-of-age Pureblood usually took on an escort he intended to marry or ally fortunes with in the future.

Forget that both were madly attracted to the other and were too stubborn to admit it or do something mad about it.

Hermione relished the feel of his strong arms, the solid chest behind her, the way his breath against her neck made her shiver.

James held on to the rare moment she let him be close. He wondered if she might let him stay there if he played his cards right.

Yet the moment they found their wits and possibly the thought to act on it was also the moment the door opened behind them and a surprised half-giant peered down at them.

"Hermione? Mr. Potter? What are you tykes doing here so close to supper?"

Hermione pulled apart from James, smoothing down her robes in the process and smiling up at the half giant. "Hello Hagrid. Sorry to trouble you but I thought you might like to visit for a bit." Thumbing the red faced teen beside her she grinned. "He tagged along."

Hagrid beamed, beard bristling and stepping aside. "Fine! Fine! Come out of the night air you two! I was just putting on a kettle of tea!"

James shared a look with her. Clearly he was wondering how she had come to befriend the notorious Groundskeeper. It was true that most students kept clear of the half giant though few save the Slytherins and Ravenclaws suspected why.

Hermione only smiled and stepped inside.

* * *

Hagrid had found her after the second day of classes. It had been after her induction into Slytherin and the warnings her Housemates gave her about befriending Gryffindors. She had been crying outside of his hut not knowing who lived there.

The giant surprised and frightened her out of her wits at first. But three cups of tea later and a visit to his pride and joy garden quickly mended matters. Since then she had taken to visiting whenever she felt lonely or received homemade candies from Dorea Potter. She always gave him three quarters of the treats.

Hagrid started their discussion that evening telling her about a three headed crup he had heard about and was trying to bargain for.

James laughed as Hermione tried to feed the strange tentacled creature Hagrid kept in a class jar and got her finger caught in its arm.

After that he told Hagrid tales of his family vacations to Wizarding Europe and some of the stranger creatures they had met along the way. Hagrid was fascinated and listened carefully to his description of Romanian Dragons.

"If I could only get my hands on a dragon egg!" Hagrid lamented.

Hermione swore when she realized the sky was no longer a burnt rose and dragging James up by the sleeve of his robe exclaimed, "Bugger! We're going to be late! Thank you for the tea Hagrid! It was lovely!"

James laughed and waved as he was carted away. "Nice place you got here mate! I'll definitely be back."

"Be careful you two! Filch will be on the lookout already!" Hagrid called from his open door at the two fluttering black robed students. He sighed to himself after they'd left and sniffed as he wiped a stray tear. "Never thought I'd see the day students came to visit _me_."

* * *

James gave her a hard time the whole race back to the castle and through the wide creaking doors. Candles illuminated the castle and cast shadows of the two as they trotted to the Great Hall.

"Hermione, love, you need to relax!"

"I haven't even started on my Arithmancy homework yet! A whole afternoon wasted! I should have watched the time."

James pulled her hands to stop behind a pillar once the din of students met their ears and the glow of the Great Hall filled the corridor nearby them. "Mione, you just had Arithmancy this morning. I don't think you need to panic yet. Besides, Hagrid is brilliant! Can't believe we spent all these years without swapping stories sooner. He could have really helped us out with some of our pranks last term…" His eyes drifted, brow furrowed in thought, eyes scrunched behind his glasses.

Hermione huffed a sigh. "Everyone won't have seen us all afternoon! What if…"

"What?" James interrupted and she was startled by how strange his voice sounded and looked up to learn why. His eyes were dark, grin wiped from his face. In fact, it was one of those rare scary moments when James Potter seemed to be utterly immovably serious. Again he pursued, stepping closer and thumbs circling patterns on her wrists. "What if people talk? Hermione, I'm a Potter and you're a Dumbledore. We're in two Houses that go as opposite as they come. Of course people are going to talk. And you know what? I'm bloody sick of worrying about it so damn much."

Her back was against the cold stone of the pillar, eyes darting round to see if anyone else was coming in late. This only aggravated her Wizard more, however. She realized her mistake when he stepped closer again.

Inhaling a breath, she felt a shock of desire when his hand hovered, then tightly grasped her waist. "_James!_" Hermione gasped, lashes fluttering at the new sensations his touch sent through her body. Her dress suddenly felt too warm beneath her robes, his face was too close to hers and his breath smelled faintly of mint.

He closed his eyes when she gasped his name and grinned. His grip tightened on her waist, firm and unyielding. Yet when he opened his eyes again his eyes were less dark and sad instead. "Mione…" He stepped back enough to hold up their joined hands and rub a thumb over his family crest displayed on her hand. "I know what they told you would happen if you spent too much time with me. I expected it. They can't stand the fact a _blood traitor_ like me could have claimed you. But did it occur to you your Housemates are full of shit?"

When her eyes narrowed at the affront James grinned. "Remus told you didn't he?"

_Damn Remus and his sensibilities!_

Hermione had confided her fears a week before to Remus because she knew, unlike Sirius, he could keep a secret. It just proved what Desdemona had told her the other morning, for men it was Sticks before Witch. She had to give Moony credit though. It was obvious he'd held out on James till now. Otherwise, he would have brought it up with her a week ago.

"You should come to me when they threaten you like that. I can't protect you if I don't know you're being threatened!" His voice grew louder the more agitated he became. Both hands now rested on her hips. His eyes were dark again and dangerous. She could feel the magic force rippling just beneath the surface of his control, tickling into her skin and teasing her own energy. The effect was unsettling and making her willing to agree to just about anything.

"_Sigh…_I'm sorry I didn't tell you. But you're Head Boy, James. You have other duties and responsibilities. I can't risk you blowing a fuse and cursing my Housemates you know."

A myriad of emotions crossed his face, from relief to annoyance to anger. He settled with anger. "You are my first responsibility Hermione! Don't you understand that yet? I promised I would protect you ever since I found you half alive. Remember?"

She shivered with the memories. Of _course_ she remembered. Biting her lip she lowered her chin and tentatively placed her hands over his forearms and slid them higher. "I know I haven't been a very good escort lately…" It was the most she had ever allowed herself to touch him. She didn't know why she allowed herself now when things would be right back to where they had been tomorrow morning. Yet she felt the muscles in his arms flex and only when her hands grasped his shoulders did she look him in the eye again.

He looked at though he was in pain, his brow raised and his mouth open slightly, and his voice was rough. "I don't care about the damned Gala, Hermione. I'm worried about _you _because I'm your friend."

She smiled. "I'm going to be a better escort. You did claim me to protect me after all. Maybe we should start acting like it." Though what she said and what James Potter heard were in fact two very different things.

Which is why he looked confused when she slipped out of his grasp and began to back toward the Great Hall. "Wait a moment before you come in," she said over her shoulder with a parting grin before she turned, her posture straightened and her steps evened.

He watched as she walked with purpose to Slytherin's table and ignoring her last request marched in almost immediately afterwards with an arrogant swagger and grin for his best mates.

And in his head James Potter began to form a plan.

* * *

**Review:** what you think James' plan might be? Or what it should be lol

* * *

**Parting Notes: ****_And for anyone curious, I chose to jump ahead in the story a bit because I didn't feel the first days however entertaining were necessary for the pace of the story. I also wanted to put more suspense on the identity of Hermione's House. How many of you knew within the first scene? ;) So now that we've established Hermione, we'll spend the next couple of chapters delving more into the Marauders and some of the other students' perspectives._**

**_What's intriguing is the first time I posted this half of everyone wanted Slytherin and this time the majority was Gryffindor. But I must side with Miss Malfoy ;)_**

**_As for Regulus being moved to a 7th _****_year class. I did it partly because I wanted him there to annoy Hermione as a plot device ;) and because I wanted to show how powerful an influence his family has. Those connections are a large part of the reason, inspired by Hermione's presence, that he is in Advanced Potions with her._**


	18. II: turning

**A/N: Once again, a too long wait! Note to self, never make definite goals you know you can't keep lol. Instead I'll simply promise to write when I get the chance! :) Enjoy!**

* * *

**PART 2: Hogwarts**

**Chapter 18**

**Turning**

* * *

Hermione Dumbledore downed her pumpkin juice and wished it were made of something stronger. She had only sampled a bit of Firewhiskey the night they spent on the roof.

_Okay and maybe the night of the Marauder's setting off party…but really only once!_

And thinking of that night only brought on memories that she wished she could forget. Of his eyes watching her as though the fireworks above them couldn't compare… Of his hands drawing her against his bare chest beneath the cool water of his pond…

_Get a hold of yourself Hermione!_

With that sharp reprimand she set her glass down a bit too hard on the old wooden table and solicited the glances of a nearby huddle of First Years. Their whispers ceased until she turned her eyes their way. A glare from the older Slytherin heiress was all it took for them to wisely continue as though nothing had happened.

She was angry with herself for letting him get to her, was more than ever determined to eat her breakfast in peace. Until her roommates decided to take their places in their usual seats in front of her. Now she had to look up to meet their eyes and couldn't help her grimace.

Hermione made a point to come to breakfast the moment the doors opened. Her only _friends_ in Slytherin occasionally came early to keep her nose out of her textbooks. Yet she was hoping for a bit of solitude after the long night she spent catching up on Arithmancy homework. Few of the other students managed to pry themselves out of bed this early. Not even the annoyingly persistent Regulus Arcturus Black arrived without his Death Eater entourage. Not that his allegiance was a publicly announced fact. Everyone in their house _knew_ which side of the fence their dorm mates sat on is all.

_So why is **he** here?_

"James Potter is staring at you again." Sang the high-browed Desdemona. Her narrow gray eyes were sparkling with amusement as Hermione glanced once again at Gryffindor's table.

And there he was…_still_…sitting by himself and reading the Daily Prophet between bites and glances at _her_. It was a wonder he managed to multitask at all with how many times he paused to watch her. Like clockwork he munched on toast and his eyes rose to meet hers. They seared with an intensity she felt down to her core and just as quickly were offset by his sudden goofy grin and obvious wave.

_When I said I'd follow Uncle's advice I didn't know he'd take to it so quickly!_

Pervincia actually turned round to follow her gaze and giggled shrilly into her hand, loose blonde curls bouncing round her face. "Well he sure has it bad, doesn't he? Before you came none of those Marauders ever showed up this early 'cept Remus. Who would have thought _James Potter_ would ever go for a girl other than that _snit _Evans!" She giggled again, her pale blue eyes sparkling with malevolent glee. "Just goes to show that Slytherin girls really are better at _everything._" She winked and grinned before diving into her breakfast.

Desdemona rolled her eyes at the shorter girl beside her and shared a look with Hermione. "You really should learn to _think_ before you unleash that brainless tongue you call a quick wit, Perv."

Pervincia glared darkly between bites but said nothing to Desdemona's bark, even though Hermione knew she hated that nickname.

Everyone in Slytherin, and Hogwarts for that matter, knew that Mona was the richest Pureblood in the school. She was the only child of Britain's European ambassador, something of an ambassador _for_ ambassadors and therefore a very powerful and influential man. And because she, like Hermione was the last heir to her ancient Pureblood name, she was very desirable and very unattainable. And to put it mildly, when she wasn't on your side, the biggest frigid bitch in the school.

Yet it was for these reasons Pervincia Macbeth, Halfblood, kept silent. Being ridiculed by Desdemona was one thing. Ostracizing oneself eternally to her bad side was quite another. And everything in their world depended on the right "connections."

Hermione cast a pitying glance at Pervincia before meeting Mona's shrewd gaze. "James Potter stares at anything with breasts and two legs." She regretted her words the moment they came out of her mouth. She had _promised _James.

_I'll be a better escort…_

Mona's shrewd gaze turned sly with the gentle turn of her mouth. "Let's not be coy, dear. Everyone knows he's been pining for you ever since you arrived. Not that we blame you. He's powerful, rich and handsome and not anything like these insufferable gits we call Housemates. Contrary to popular opinion, I have no aversion to the occasional dalliance with members outside our house."

"Oh yes!" Pervincia giggled and snorted briefly into her Pumpkin Juice, provoking a roll of Desdemona's eyes. "Potter is delicious! I've seen him practicing in the Quidditch Pitch shirtless at least half a dozen times! And he always does that little trick where you can see his—ouch!" Startled she blinked and settled her wrath on the tall Pureblood beside her. "Look just because everyone else in this _Merlin forsaken House_ likes to pretend we're the be-all end-all doesn't mean we can't _appreciate _beautiful things." At this she turned and winked at Hermione. "And he is beautiful, isn't he? _Isn't_ he? Ooh! I knew it! You have seen him naked, haven't you!"

Hermione nearly sprayed her juice over both girls and barely managed to salvage her composure. "I most certainly have not!" Yet it was impossible to be rid of the tell-tale flush of her cheeks.

_At least, not entirely…_

"Hmph! We'll see love," Pervincia said with a tilt of her glass and a smug grin…which quickly turned bug eyed and frozen the moment a cool even voice exclaimed…

"Why hello ladies! Dumbledore, Lefay…_Pervincia_…Fancy finding three equally beautiful Witches gathered together." His short stature did not detract from his pale, handsome face or the way Pervincia erupted into a nonsensical fit of giggles.

Hermione would be eternally grateful for the distraction Wilkes never failed to provide. He too was an oddity of Slytherin. Though an established Pureblood through and through, he didn't seem to have any alliances. He talked to whomever he pleased whenever he pleased and that included their little group. Though he flirted with all of them, he paid his closest attention to Pervincia Macbeth.

"It's not a wonder to find the sun shining over your golden locks like a divine halo, Pervincia. I do hope one day you will give me a lock." With a hand over his heart and an easy tilt of his brow he was the epitome of smooth.

"Oh Percy!" Pervincia giggled.

Mona had already finished half her plate though Hermione couldn't remember seeing her lift a fork. There it hung precariously between her fingers though in no danger of slipping. "Wilkes, if you were able to actually express your _charm_ through words you might be considered a threat."

Wilkes scowled briefly at her. "I see we woke up radiant and magnanimous as ever, Mona."

Desdemona hated her nickname as much as Pervincia hated hers. And Wilkes detested being called by his given name.

Hermione felt like the odd one out.

"Why don't you go seduce a First Year as it seems they're the only ones fooled by your _charms,_" Desdemona continued.

As though on cue the First Years nearby burst in a fit of silent giggles. Even Wilkes had the decency to look sheepish beneath his impudent mask. He changed tactics knowing Lefay had won this round.

_Don't know why he still tries._

Hermione wondered. Wilkes could easily have Pervincia eating out of his hand if he wished. But each time he joined his friends he wound up baiting the hard-nosed ambassador's daughter.

Hermione didn't understand why Mona didn't hang around with the other Slytherins. Or why she literally chose to link herself to Hermione and Pervincia exclusively. Perv had come close to telling her the truth once or twice in the last week, when they were alone, only to be conveniently interrupted each time. And so Hermione chose to keep her suspicions to herself, though it didn't go beyond her notice Desdemona Lefay despised anyone she suspected a Death Eater. It was a wonder she tolerated Wilkes as he frequented them all equally.

"So what's on the agenda for today my darlings? Going to watch the Carrows race across the lake? House has been buzzing about it all morning. We've a bet going that they won't make it by half, though if I were pressed I'd go for Alecto. Much better swimmer that one."

"Oh dear!" Pervincia exclaimed, beaming to have garnered Wilkes' attention. "Isn't that dangerous? What about the Giant Squid? What about the mermaids? I've heard they're not very nice…"

"Perhaps you should chaperon them across if you're so concerned." Desdemona spoke without looking up.

"Black was actually the one who made the bet with them. I warned Alecto not to try him."

Hermione rolled her eyes and ground her teeth at the very mention of her detestable lab partner. She had liked Regulus the first few times she met him. It had all gone down hill from there, the moment he opened his mouth.

Mona's eyes were calculating and watching with veiled amusement as always. With a tilt of her pointed chin, "You know I believe Hermione is friends with Black. He's your potions partner, isn't he? Perhaps you might talk him out of this venture before someone gets hurt?"

Hermione gripped her robes beneath the table but offered a smile above. Mona knew _exactly_ what she thought of Regulus Black. Most of Slytherin did in fact. Thanks to the two incidents he made her lose her head in front of them.

"Regulus Black! He's sort of dreamy, don't you think Hermione…though not so dreamy as—_ouch_!" Perv glared up at Desdemona, the latter now occupied with her breakfast once more.

The flutter of wings sounded from the windows high above and Hermione couldn't help but to look up in awe at the sight. Hundreds of owls filled the Hall with the beat of their wings. Professors and students reached out to receive their morning post. Most of the student populous had roused from their beds by now and their voices created a light din just above the screech of the thickly plumed birds.

Somehow Regulus Arcturus Black caught her eye from his popular spot down the table and _winked_.

When she jerked her chin away her eyes fused with the only other pair in the Great Hall not looking up.

James had yet to be surrounded by his closest mates. Frank Longbottom ate silently at his left side, occasionally smiling down Alice Greengrass' way. Thus, her Marauder was still staring at her. Not simply staring, more like _touching _her with his eyes. It was a look Hermione had only seen glimpses of before yet were occurring more frequently of late. And unsettling her so much now she shivered and bit her lip.

Just then the snowy wings of a large blue eyed bird were flapping before her face, dropping a note into her hands and snatching the last bit of her scone before swooping above.

She was grateful their own letters from home occupied her friends at the moment. Because it gave her a moment free of the constant scrutiny to unfold the parchment simply labeled, **_Mione_**.

Her brow furrowed to find nothing written within. She didn't dare look up to see if James Potter's eyes were still on her. She didn't have to because she could _feel _their gaze. And right now she knew her frustration might fade were she lost in those rich hazel orbs.

_Why would he send me a blank piece of parchment. This is ridiculous!_

The moment she grazed her fingertip over the paper she froze but it was too late.

_The bloody thing's riddled with magic! What was he thinking? What did he do?_

Her eyes narrowed dangerously and she was about to march right over to Gryffindor table and demand he take whatever prank bloody hex he'd just set over her.

When the paper began to waver and change and so suddenly she would miss if she blinked, words began to form.

…

**_Surprise!_**

**_Oh come on Mione, you know you're impressed right now. Bet that brilliant little mind of yours is burning with questions, yeah? Want to know how I managed this? Well you'll have to force the answers out of me or I'll tell you in exchange for something else._**

**_Don't look at me that way! You know Mum was Slytherin. I know the basic ropes._**

**_Okay so here's the rules,_**

**_You cannot in any way try to trace the magic I used or a nasty stinging hex will get you. Sorry love, knew benign threats wouldn't faze you._**

**_You must not under pain of torture let anyone get their hands on this._**

**_Before I know I can trust you I need you to say these words out loud, or else this won't work: I solemnly swear I am up to no good. _**

**_Got it? Good._**

**_Last but not least, trust me and wait for my next instructions. The first being to meet me before lunch in front of the statue of the ugly hag._**

**_Let the games begin!_**

**_Yours,_**

**_J.M.P_**

…

He watched as she nearly spewed her Pumpkin Juice all over her snotty _friends_ at breakfast. He grinned the times she blushed while trying _not_ to look in his direction. He couldn't help looking while she read over his letter. Couldn't thank McGonagall enough for pushing him so hard during those private Transfiguration lessons.

"_You _**_could _**_show true brilliance, Mr. Potter, if you weren't so bent on abusing your talent with foolishness!"_

In his humble opinion, James showed brilliance every time he managed to incite _that_ look from his Witch.

He smiled when she eyed him across the Great Hall, her frustration obvious and bloody sexy. The way those eyes burned _through_ him through the weave of chattering heads sent a message strait to his groin, got his blood going in that fantastic way only _Hermione_ could. Before her, James had thought the only thing that could make him feel like that was flying, or Lily Evans if he were honest. But those were days of yesteryear's past.

Pleased with himself for coming up with this plan _without_ the influence of Sirius Black, he hardly noticed he wasn't sitting alone anymore.

"Can you believe this mate?" Sirius grumbled. It was the same tone he used when he was especially pissed and feeling stubbornly disagreeable. Sometimes it could last the whole day.

Hermione's eyes flickered briefly to the boys, a single brow rising dramatically on her expressive face, slight grin turning at the corner of her full red mouth…

And he felt a familiar tightening in his pants.

_Sweet Godric she has no fuckin' idea…_

"Padfoot will you give it a rest already?" Remus groaned into his hand, looking more and worse for wear as the nightly moon waxed.

_Shit, forgot about that nose of his_...

Sirius kept frowning at the Daily Prophet propped in James' hands and into the distracted, slightly lust hazed eyes of his best mate. "Prongs! Come on you think it's ridiculous too, don't you?"

Remus pulled his head to its full height, a daunting thing beside the slimmer and shorter Black, especially with the beast so close in his amber eyes. "There are far more important things going on out there than your bloody games!"

James watched, feeling that familiar worry and slight shift of the Animagus hovering beneath his skin.

Pete was looking anxiously between the two yet their small friend had never been a good with words. Still he tried before James could butt in. "Oi, come on Moony, what do you expect from us? Dumbledore told us not to think about the War right now. It's our last year after all…"

Remus hit the table with a resounding bang that rattled the nearby cutlery. "Damn it Wormtail, for the last time, it's _Headmaster _Dumbledore!"

James knew the best tactic in distracting the Werewolf when the signs came on were to ignore them. To Sirius, he said, "Okay, what is it I'm supposed to be agreeing with?"

Sirius threw up his hands in disbelief. "Am I the only person besides Wormtail who actually _goes_ to Hogwarts? I thought being Head Boy meant you knew all the latest gossip."

James grinned. "Is that what this is about, gossip?" His eyes flickered to a moody Moony, who glared harder into his marmalade toast and eggs.

"Come off it Prongs, this is serious!"

Sirius clearly expected him to know this piece of news and briefly racked his brain for anything he'd missed. Admittedly, he'd been a bit occupied last night while Prefects reported in and he started his rounds _apart_ from Evans. Setting the Prophet down, he confessed, "I give up mate, what?"

Frank Longbottom was giving them the usual looks, as though they spoke a foreign language on a daily basis. With as much time as the Wizard spent in his Herbology text it was a wonder he remembered the English language at all.

Sirius had gathered something of an audience by this point and became more unmanageable the more attention he got. "_Hufflepuff_ is facing off Slytherin for the first match this term! And you didn't say one bloody word to us! You might have, you know, being the _captain_ of our team, before a bloke went and made a few bets!"

James felt his temper rise with every word. "Well, the thought hadn't occurred to me Padfoot. It's not like I'm _busy _or anything." He plucked at his Head Boy badge forward for emphasis.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Oh _now_ you use the badge for your excuse, when I could have damned well used it last week. It's your fault I got detention with McGonagall!"

James gritted his teeth and fisted the Prophet into his calloused hands. "You see this?" The front page replayed the latest attack on a street of Muggle homes, smoke rising over the wreckage. Pads had the decency to shut up and James' temper calmed because of it. He glared at Pete. "Remus had a good point when he said there's a lot worse things going on out there. So what if its our last year? So what if Dumbledore told us to enjoy it. Of course we should enjoy it! But we can't _ever_ forget what's waiting for us out there either."

His eyes searched for Hermione during his tirade. Every time he saw her James remembered how she had looked when she came to him. He'd never asked for a subscription to the Prophet before her arrival. Now he read it because he couldn't stop searching for more, any hint of the Witch Hermione truly was, or the ones searching for her. If they weren't inside the castle walls, they were certainly waiting out there.

Selwyn's fat head was in the way now… He couldn't catch a good enough glimpse of her.

"…suppose you're right." Padfoot was saying, low enough the rest of Gryffindor couldn't hear them now. "But you ought to remember you're a Marauder too, Prongs. And that also means giving a bloke a warning before changing the Quidditch schedule! I'll have to fix the tables over _again_."

James grinned and stood. Hermione had left the Slytherin table. Her friends were still huddled together without her, and James realized he was late!

_Damn it Padfoot!_

Tossing the Prophet into Sirius' hands he snatched his book bag and nearly tripped his long legs over the bench. "Wanted to see how Slytherin plays this year first, Pads. I'm sure you'll make as much money off _my_ hard work as ever."

"Where are you going?" Peter queried.

Sirius smacked him on the back of his mousy head. "Where do you _think,_ you arse?"

* * *

Being Head Boy so far was everything James M. Potter had thought it would be.

_A pain in the ass…_

Yes, there was that. It also meant less sleep and more responsibility for him. It meant he had to see Lily Evans every bloody night and morning whether he wanted to or not. It meant he had less time to spend with his mates and his Witch. It was a good thing he was already brilliant or he'd never catch up with his studies between being Captain of Gryffindor's Quidditch team and the occasional private lesson with McGonagall and his godfather.

There were perks of course.

_Can't forget the benefits mate!_

As Head Boy, he could get away with murder. He had everything so easily wound round his fingers. Being Head Boy meant he could change schedules, direct Quidditch in a way that might give them the advantage without _looking _like that was what he'd done. It meant he could take away House Points and give them, fairly of course!

And occasionally pull strings other pranksters could only dream of.

Padfoot wouldn't be complaining once he had Evans fooled.

He ran the whole way to the ugly hag statue with a grin on his face.

James could never thank Emmeline Vance enough for diverting Sirius' attention from Hermione, of late. Even if his two weeks max with Vance was up tomorrow and he was up to any Witch for the taking. Padfoot and Prongs had never discussed their shared fascination for a certain Miss Dumbledore. James hadn't told Sirius about his growing need to be with her. In fact the only one who might have suspected would be Remus. But it was obvious his best mate had backed off _a lot_ since their return to Hogwarts. Before then he had nearly knocked physical sense into his head for the dozen moments Sirius went too far.

_Touching _her lower back _just there_…

Hands groping a bit _too_ fondly…

Using that _damned bloody _smile every time she entered the room…

James knew Padfoot would never hurt him intentionally in any way. He'd stayed away from Evans for James. Well, that and the fact the red head made him want to cast a silencing spell every time they met.

He hadn't forgiven her for hurting James either. When they crossed ways Pete claimed their furry friend could barely speak two civil words. Though some of this might have had to do with Lily's sudden re-acquaintance with Snivellus.

Still James was grateful his Head Girl had her own set of distractions. It kept her nose from breathing down their necks long as she had the greasy bat around. It was why James had hated Severus Snape last year so much.

Funny, how he was now silently thanking the git for stealing his girl.

Any hexing with honest malice was coming from the end of Padfoot's wand this year, not his.

He ran until his lungs burned in the way he loved, until her tamed bushy curls were in his line of sight, back to him now. When he came closer he slowed his steps and trusted she'd be lost in her thoughts like she often was.

_Too often of late in my opinion…_

All of that was about to change.

She screeched when his arms wrapped around her and twisted her in mid air.

Eyes wide she gasped for breath while somehow managing to whisper-shout at him. "James! Put me down you idiot! What if someone sees you?"

There it was again, the same bloody thing she'd been saying since every time he tried to get her alone this last week. Each time made his temper threaten to rise above the surface, or tempt him to do something stupid. He obeyed her, but waited to move his hands from her waist. And because her focus faded and her lips parted, because she tried to pull away, he took a step closer and grinned.

"I'm surprised you remembered where the Hag was."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "We all met here when we snuck into Honeydukes last weekend, remember? I still can't believe you conned me into that…" Her brow furrowed and she stared at his chest, remembering.

He smiled and reluctantly pulled his hands from her waist, instantly missing the feel of her. "So you still have my letter?"

Another roll of her eyes and she waved the folded parchment between them.

"Good. You'll want to keep that close."

Eyes narrowed, "Why?"

He shook his head. "Salazar's loins, they've really been training you haven't they?"

She lost her patience just like he hoped she would and said, "James would you please explain to me what this is all about? I have Charms next and Remus will be looking for me…"

"Don't insult me, love. You know I always have a backup plan."

Hands on her hips she tilted her chin and set her iciest glare up at him. Every inch of her five feet and four inches screamed Pureblood princess and he'd have to tell his mother all about her success in his next letter. He didn't realize he hadn't answered her question until, she said, "Well are you going to tell me what this is about or not? I'd rather not be late."

"Oh I wouldn't worry about being late." He took her hand in his then and reached into his pocket with the other. Wagging his eyebrows he teased, "What do you say we skip some classes today?" Ignoring her horrified expression he spun the Time Turner and watched the world blur backwards.

Hermione gasped when they arrived within a somewhat darker corridor.

His own head felt a bit woozy like McGonagall had warned him it would, but he couldn't help his grin. "Brilliant! It worked!"

Hermione was clutching his side and he frowned to see the effects were far worse on her. Her skin had broke into a cold sweat and her eyes were wide upon him. The Slytherin mask was gone and it was his Hermione that blinked up at him now. "James…what did you do?"

Too happy to hold her closer to his side he pocketed McGonagall's device and smoothed her brow. "You look a bit peaky, love. Shall we?"

"What did you do?" Firmer this time her worry was replaced with frustration.

"Better hurry through before Filch finds us up here." He pulled his cloak out of his book bag and let it drape over his arm.

_Never too soon to be prepared…_

The Hag parted soon after and the Head Boy led the befuddled Slytherin princess into the dark tunnel.

"**_Lumos,_**" he whispered and his wand glowed in front of them.

"James M. Potter, you'd better tell me what the _hell_ just happened before I go back up there and rat you to Evans myself."

James cringed at the mental picture that drew and glanced back at her wary eyes. "This year I've been taking a couple private lessons with Uncle Albus and Minnie, to prepare for…after graduation." He hadn't told her about the private lessons. Not even the Marauders knew about it. Not that he wouldn't have told them, rather Minnie threatened him at wand point if he did.

"And well, my schedule's a bit too complicated to manage everything on a daily basis. So Minnie let me borrow her Time Turner." When Hermione froze up James turned a worried frown back at her. She had stopped dead in the tunnel and beneath the glow of his wand her features suddenly looked too drawn and pale. Releasing her hand he tilted her chin until her eyes met his. "You okay love?"

A strange confused smile crossed her features and her hand tentatively covered his. "Yeah…I'm sorry. Just had a funny feeling." Yet she still looked lost, like she did any time he mentioned something that hit her guarded memories too closely. She hated it when he wouldn't let it go.

So he grinned and linking their fingers led them on. "It's how I was able to find you last night actually. Though I'm not sure Minnie would be happy knowing I'm using this to spend a couple hours with you. Don't worry though. I'll have you back in time to walk Remus to class."

And so he would.

James only had half a plan in his mind of course. He wouldn't have it any other way. The rest would come to him as they went along. It always did. That was the reason their prank wars were so effective and unpredictable. Sirius tended to turn over ideas in his head until they burst off him at the wrong moment. And Pete was better at sneakiness but not subtlety. Remus kept them grounded, but James led the brilliance.

* * *

Honeydukes hadn't even opened when they emerged from the basement under cover of his invisibility cloak.

_Best gift Dad ever gave me!_

Hermione whispered warnings about magical laws against stealing when James snatched them two sun flavored lollipops, but he _did _set a galleon on the empty counter before they left for High Street.

"I can't believe we're doing this! If Uncle Albus finds out…" She said this more than once the following hours during which they stuffed their cloaks into her extendable book bag.

They didn't need his invisibility cloak once he transfigured their clothing into something more suitable a Hogsmeade visitor. Not that it made much difference. All the shopkeepers on and off High Street recognized the son of Charlus and Dorea Potter. But it was enough to convince Hermione they were safe.

Only then did she begin to smile at his jokes and intentional stupidity.

Every smile made him more convinced his plan would work.

And then he forgot that he had a plan, forgot much else once they left Madame Puddifoot's in tears over the cherub that nearly attacked Hermione after she swatted it away from their table.

"It's really so much better if you pretend to love everything about it." James commented on the frivolous tea shop. He hated the place well as the next man and was pleased to find Hermione did too. But it didn't mean they didn't enjoy _pretending_ to love it while mocking themselves.

The new joke shop, Zonko's, had been the initial reason for James' visit to Hogsmeade. They were running low on some of their baser supplies after two weeks of minor pranking. Still building up to the big one, James hadn't allowed them anything more just yet. Least not anything that was obviously _them_.

"Now this was worth the headache you gave me earlier." Hermione exclaimed as they poured over all the jokes and tricks the shop provided.

He was more than pleased when she gathered her own pile of goods next to his. And horrified when upon seeing her wide devious grin afterwards accidentally made him wandlessly set off a small rocket from his sack.

"I can't believe you convinced me this was a good idea…" Hermione laughed once they retreated back into Honeydukes. "Did you see their faces? I don't know how you set that sparkler off like that…in the middle of the street too!"

James grinned sheepishly as he shifted the invisibility cloak over them and opened the passageway again. "Yeah, ruddy brilliant of me, making sure everyone in Hogsmeade knew we were here." He shook his head and scrambled down after her, magically turning the stone in place. When he set his feet on the cool ground beneath he blinked back his surprise.

Hermione held a blue sphere of glowing light in her bare hands, illuminating her face with strange shadows. "Then it's a good thing I was here to protect you," she softly replied.

He was moth to her flame. He couldn't help forgetting everything when she looked at him _like that_. Even if Albus threatened his badge, if Minnie put him in detention for the rest of the term, if he were banned from Quidditch…

_Well, maybe not Quidditch, but anything else!_

"It was worth it." He grinned.

This time she was the one who took his hand in one of hers and led them back through the wind whispering tunnel.

* * *

Hermione was learning to think of herself as a sensible, thinking young woman. But every time she was around James Potter she lost that small ounce of control she managed without his help. She felt Dorea's training wither and fade and a reckless, wild thing take her place. It was disconcerting having this other _person _inside of you, very closely resembling you, but very different all the same.

If being with James was helping her find the Witch she had been before she were cursed, Hermione wasn't sure she wanted to know her. She had the residual impression she might have once been brave. Not that she was a coward now. Simply she knew the risks bravery took and preferred not to see anyone get hurt because of her now.

How could she survive every day in her House if she couldn't tame the lion James saw inside her? She hadn't lost control since before they came to Hogwarts, not until today. Today she'd finally taken her Uncle's advice and let him in again. And quite thoroughly lost her head.

_She_ had grabbed a handful of her own firecrackers and thrown them after James' on High Street.

_She _laughed and led him by the hand through the forgotten tunnel and shoved him against the wall beneath his invisibility cloak just outside the stone Hag, while their other selves appeared and argued in front of it.

_She _pressed up against him, face buried against his chest, listening to his too rapid heartbeat. Feeling the hard muscle she'd seen glimpses of before, finding it too easy to place her hands on his sides and feel him shudder beneath her. It awakened some part of Hermione she sensed she had never really known before.  
For one lasting moment she gave into it, feeling excited and _alive_ when he ran his hands from her arms and to her lower back, pulling her tighter against him. He hesitated like he were afraid of holding her too close, but unable to do any less. And Hermione lifted her chin beneath the cloak, saw him staring down at her with a dark, growing intensity, felt his magic threaten to burst just like it had on the street minutes before.

They didn't notice that their other selves had already disappeared into the past.

He opened his mouth, frowned, held his breath and the tension came crashing down when he whispered, "_Hermione_…"

And all too soon the moment passed.

"There you two are!" Remus growled as he jogged and staring straight where they stood beneath James' cloak.

Hermione felt her mask slip into place instantly and the other Hermione retreat just as quickly. She pulled away from James, peeled the cloak away with her and whirred round to find Remus's disapproving glare.

"Did you know I had to use the map to find you? Might have told me which secret passage you were planning on meeting at last night…James are you listening to a word I'm saying? _Sigh…_come on Hermione. We're gonna be late!"

They left a dumbfounded James as they ran together to Charms. She didn't dare look back.

* * *

**Review: Your questions for an answer lol Or just your thoughts? **


	19. II: scarlet

**A/N: **_Apologies for the delay! I've been swamped with real life, as usual. And am trying to find some spare moments for this story :D Thanks to all of you who have been staunch supporters and continue to leave me fabulous thoughts and reviews. They matter and I always take them into account when I'm writing._

* * *

**PART 2: Hogwarts**

**Chapter 19**

**scarlett**

For as long as she could remember, Lily Evans had hated James Potter.

There was simply just no excuse for the way he and Black treated Severus like a doormat. No reason why they apparently earned the right to piss on everyone _beneath _them, who wasn't in the same House.

_God forbid_!

James Potter was arrogant, cocky and a womanizer. He was worse than Black, because unlike Sirius, James didn't _know_ he was any of these things. It made him the worst kind of boner in her opinion.

Lily had watched a lot of American films at the cinema over summer holidays. She had to do something besides avoid Tuney and her rotten friends the _Dursley's_ after all. It was something completely Muggle, which she tended to go overdose on every holiday until she longed for the world of wands and magic again.

And this summer Lily so happened to _not_ be spending like she had every summer before. Because this summer she had chosen to toss the only friend from home she had left.

Every time she passed Spinner's End on her bike she found herself watching for a stringy mop of black hair and a strong hooked nose despite herself. Every time she passed the junction between their adjoining neighborhoods, Evans felt a piece of herself die over again. Every time she heard _**Mudblood**_ spit from his lips like a curse in her head and began to wonder if Potter and Black had been right all along.

"_You should get a job if you're bored, pumpkin," _Mum had suggested.

Yet aside from babysitting, Lily felt it pointless to waste her time working at the local market, or waitressing in the town pub like every other bint. She had every intention of joining the Wizarding World once she graduated next summer and found it pointless to create ties to a life she was leaving behind.

Petunia had been bitter and distant, more so this summer than all the ones before. Lily stopped using magic around her because of the blend of envy and fear in her ignorant face. She loved her sister out of childhood habit. But she knew there would be no more kinship between them once she made the final switch over.

Mum and Dad were wonderful as ever. They had even smuggled her in to see _The Who _for her birthday and let Alice stay over for the Muggle concert. Alice Greengrass, Pureblood through and through, now _idolized _every vinyl Lily sent her way.

Wonderful as they were, Lily knew that a war was brewing. They had one less roommate this year because of it. Lily felt it every time they came up to Remus in the halls and saw the crestfallen look on his handsome face. Everyone knew Remus had never found the balls to ask Winifred out after their disastrous Hogsmeade outing last term. And since then he had retreated so deep into his shell not even Lily could get him to peek out.

Much as she hated to admit it, _Hermione Dumbledore_ was the first person that had managed to make Remus smile that _special_ smile again.

She was the only one who could handle Peter for extended periods of time besides the Marauders.

She was the only person Sirius Black listened to these days.

She made Regulus Black dance on his toes during Potions every day trying to impress her.

And above all, Hermione Dumbledore, _Slytherin_, was the reason Potter was acting…well…un-_Potter_-like.

_Good thing people can't hear your inner monologue Lils or they'd be less inclined to think you brilliant._

Jabbing her quill harshly to her parchment, she swore when the ink splattered. "Shit!"

Alice peeked up from their third week of Charms homework with a curious grin on her pixie face. "Language, Miss Evans." She gave her best impersonation of Flitwick. It was almost _too _good.

"_Sigh_…" Grabbing her wand she banished the inky mess away and ignored Alice's comments. They had been roommates too long for Greengrass _not_ to know what she was thinking.

Lily Evans was in denial most of last term, according to Alice. She'd been frustrated by Potter's over-the-top, more often ridiculous overtures and couldn't make him out any more. Something was changing in Potter that Lily had begun to wonder if it hadn't been there all along. Especially after the incident with Severus...

_**Mudblood**_, he had called her. In front of everyone by the lake, after she _defended_ him!

Red-headed temper aside, Lily had already been angry with him before then. Sev was dabbling too much in the Dark Arts. Not that she had any tangible proof. She just _knew_. The only times he seemed himself was outside of Hogwarts, or when it was just the two of them alone…

So it was easy to begin imagining Severus as the villain and James as a potential hero. Just when she was coming around to the idea _she_ had to show up!

_With her pouty lips and damned poodle hair!_

"Shit!" Ink spotted her parchment again. Alice giggled and Lily shot a very fierce green eyed glare. "Don't say anything."

Alice shrugged good naturedly, mischievous smile on her light pretty features. "Wasn't saying nothing."

Lily rolled her eyes. She glanced at the grandfather clock in their common room. It was magically inclined to tell centaur time as well, which was confusing because it occasionally went backwards.

**10 p.m**

_Where is that prat?_

Her eyes darted to the Head dorm entrance and knit her brows together.

"Lils will you calm down for two seconds?" Alice sighed. "Besides. I thought you said, and I quote, 'That wanker can go jump off his broom for all I care'."

"I _don't_ care!" Lily cried outraged and immediately felt guilty for it. "Sorry Alice. _Ugh_!" With a groan she threw the quill down and sank her face into her hands. "What's happening to me? I used to be a nice person."

"Except to the Marauders and Selwyn and the Slytherin Quidditch team…"

"Fine I see your point." She lifted her head, board straight red hair parting round her face. "I just can't concentrate every time I think about—about that _girl_."

"I see you haven't lost your gift for prose," Alice murmured.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Witch."

"Bitch." Alice sweetly batted her lashes.

"I suppose I have been rather awful, haven't I?" Lily's eyes fell to Potters half of their common room. Littered with the boys' filth.

"You have to let it go you know." Alice's serious tone surprised her.

"What do you mean?" Her voice sounded smaller, about as small as she felt.

Alice sighed. "You worry about the boys too much. Frank's been their roommate the last six years and even he gave up worrying a long time ago."

"Yeah, well Frank isn't having to make sure they don't blow up the school. Or start a war with the way they parade Slytherin's _princess_ around."

"All right, that's it." Alice turned to face her more while gathering her texts and notes and setting them in her bag. It was a dangerous look, all eyebrows. "I swear if I hear you say _one_ more nasty thing about Hermione, I'm gonna charm your hair to blonde overnight! Don't think I won't either!" She would do it too. Lily had received many threats over the last three weeks. Ever since she had come to Platform 9 and ¾ and watched an improved James Potter arrive with his escort. Alice had informed Lily of the escort and Gala business. Frank was taking her, after all. And Purebloods made it their business to know each other's business, no matter their political stance.

Even though Lily called the Gala sexist and outdated, secretly she wished she could go. Or rather, wished she didn't have to watch this fascinating and new James take another Witch. When he said last term it would _only _ever be _her_ for him about fifty times, she had started to believe him.

Lily had never thought of herself as a vain girl.

But here was proof.

"Evans, are you hearing me?" Alice was in her face now, wand at the ready grin still in place.

Lily blinked and offered her a weary smile. "I hear you Greengrass." Alice was right after all. Three weeks were behind them and Lily hadn't been able to enjoy much of anything. Because of _Potter._

With a brief nod and pocketing of her wand the smaller Gryffindor turned to the door. "I'm clearing out before the carnie comes to town. Sure you don't want me to walk part of your rounds to the tower?"

Lily smiled and waved her away. "No, I know Frank's waiting for you." She glared at her partially done homework.

_Wish someone cared to wait for me…_

No one had even dared to ask her out to Hogsmeade yet. Even though Potter had moved on and snagged the Dumbledore heiress, Lily felt like she had his stamp imprinted on her forehead still.

_Maybe it's time to admit the truth to yourself, Lils. You were falling for that barmy git. And **you** were the one who rejected him. Just never expected him to get over it so quickly! _

"O—okay," Alice said after the brief silence. "Looks like you're having another chat with yourself so I'll leave you two alone."

Her emerald orbs struck along with her scarlet temper like a match. "I do _not _talk to myself!"

"Love you Lils, but you are a bit of a nutter sometimes you know. Probably all that time you've been spending with…"

"Don't say it." She warned with an instantly icy glare in contrast with her blood red locks.

Alice laughed then, no doubt about to say something that would make Lily think of another troublesome Slytherin.

On top of keeping an eye on the Marauders, the prank wars, her classes and Head duties…then of course there was N.E.W.T's to think about…Lily couldn't think about _him_ too.

No sooner did Alice open the door than the four Marauders came stumbling through, arms wrapped round one another's shoulders, laughing over their latest conquests.

Remus blushed and ducked his head the moment he caught Lily's scrutiny. "Hey Lils."

Sirius perked his head up, glared briefly at her and then bowed low to Alice. "Alice, love! What brings your marvelously round—ahem—I was _going _to say friendship Moony…to me this evening? Frank being a dog again?" With a wag of his brows he added, "Know I'm free and single? Anytime you want it love just say the word."

Alice shook her head with a light chuckle. "Goodnight Black. Good luck Lils." She called the last with the click of their door.

Crossing her arms across her robes Lily tapped her foot and waited for them all to collapse on the couches.

Peter laughed at Sirius' whisper and James practically climbed over to interrupt. "What?! You wanker, don't tell Padfoot too!"

Sirius' eyes bugged. "You're bloody joking?" And then with a wide grin. "Fuck! I'm impressed Prongsie! Man after my heart after all." The last he said with a casual glance Lily's way. "Oh, _Evans_. Didn't notice you standing there. Was there something you needed?"

The others turned to face her at once, Remus with a blush still staining his cheeks, Peter with very wide fearful eyes. James' expression was…blank…albeit a bit sheepish. Gone forever was that _look_ he used to keep for her.

She tried to ignore the pain Sirius' sarcasm brought and focused her attentions on Potter. "Your rounds finished for the evening?"

He nodded and grinned faintly. "Yeah…got most of em…"

She narrowed her eyes on him. "Did you check the dungeons?"

James shrugged and nodded but didn't meet her eye. "Yeah, mostly…"

"Cause she's meeting us here." Sirius grinned maliciously, waiting for her reaction.

And Lily was determined to give him none. "Good. I'll be off then. Try not to make a mess if you can help it."

As she stepped through the door she heard Sirius Black mutter with a hiss, "Bitch."

_That's what they're calling you behind your back, you know…_

It's exactly what happened to Scarlet in Gone With the Wind, one of the last movies she had watched before boarding the train. The epic had come on the telly and she was enraptured. In the beginning saw herself as Melly Wilkes and Hermione as Scarlet O'Hara. Yet as the movie dragged on she found herself in Scarlett's situation. Because of her own arrogance she let her own version of Rhett Butler walk away? But was James a Rhett or an Ashley? Had Lily been pining for him all along and just not known it?

And if James was Ashley then Rhett must be…

Brushing away the thought she tried to focus the end of her wand as she descended to the eerie dungeons.

_I can't believe Potter left the dungeons for me!_

It wasn't as if the snakes didn't know and despise her enough already because of her blood. The only thing that had saved her from them in the past was her friendship with Severus, _and_ the end of her wand.

Thus far she had caught three small First Years scampering out after hours, one Fourth Year trying to escape the library undetected and two Ravenclaws in the midst of a very thorough snog. All walked obediently back to their dorms, but not without bitter glares for their Head Girl.

Lily's reputation was changing. Before Potter chose to focus his unwanted attentions on her she had been a favorite among her classmates and Professors. Aside from most of Slytherin House, she faced little persecution. Hogwarts was home. She and Severus both agreed they wanted to return to it one day. He would teach DADA and she would teach Charms.

Lily loved helping others. She'd never thought of herself as a people pleaser or suck up, like some viewed her.

Suddenly she was a cold-hearted bitch for turning James bloody Potter down.

How dare she say no to the most arrogant prat in the entire school!

With Hermione's presence, everything was worse. Because Lily couldn't forget it and she couldn't help the green-eyed monster of envy when she thought about how easily everything came for the girl.

In one month Hermione was rising to the top of her class—a place Lily had held for years—was popular with seemingly little effort and hardly paid attention to her escort.

And then suddenly in the last week they were suddenly everywhere together.

Hermione was coming to the common room to study.

Hermione and James were running around the grounds doing God knew what.

James had to walk Hermione to her dorm every bloody night.

James had _dared_ to sit across from Hermione during lunch the day before _at the Slytherin table_. The Great Hall had never looked so serious before. Like the stage of a bloody Shakespeare play!

_Forget about it Lils! You're starting to sound obsessed!_

"What do you mean we cannot act?"

Lily froze, clung to the wall of the torch lit corridor at the sound of the slimy voice. She held her breath. This was exactly the sort of encounter she didn't want to face.

Yet she had to do _something_! She wasn't the top of her class six straight years for nothing! Wand at the ready, Lily began to march forward, only to feel her legs glued and her blood run cold at the sound of the familiar velvety voice.

"Calm yourself, Travers. When Malfoy wants us to act we will. You remember our orders don't you?"

"You know if I didn't know any better, _Snape_, I'd say you didn't have the balls to go through with it." Sneered the thin shell of a boy. Lily hated Travers, the Half-blood who promoted himself a Pureblood. So did most of Slytherin.

_Why is Severus even talking to him!_ Her shock was giving way to a dangerous anger. But she couldn't let Sev know she overheard him talking to a Death Eater. Lily didn't want to think about what it could mean.

_He promised…_

Severus drawled lazily, in the manner saying that Travers was not worth his time. "I already know where my loyalties lie. What you should be more concerned with is what everyone thinks about your own."

Travers laughed, "No one cares to notice me, Snape. Remember I'm beneath their notice, just like you should have been!" A pause and then the Slytherin's humor turned nasty, "And I wouldn't be so certain of anyone who spends as much time with a filthy _**Mudblood**_ like you do."

Tears escaped Lily's eyes.

_He hasn't changed at all…It was just an act! How could you be so stupid!_

Yet the next sound she heard was nothing at all and then the whispered hexes that left Travers moaning his agony. And Severus Snape whispering something dangerous and low against his ear before stalking away.

Lily gasped and cast a quick Disillusionment charm over herself, clung to the shadows and prayed Severus was too angry to notice.

She watched as he marched a tall silhouette past her, chin tucked, brow bent and furrowed in frustration. The fury in his face was what frightened her, but not as much as the moment his black eyes turned _directly_ to her hidden form.

She had no time or room to protest before he grabbed her roughly by the arm and pulled her along in front of him.

In the pregnant silence that followed, Lily thought her heart might explode it was beating so fast. There had always been a part of Severus that frightened her. Because the incident by the lake, she hadn't always known how he would react. This new Severus, the one that already lost her once before, was even more volatile. Everyone noticed something had snapped in Snape since that incident by the lake, when Evans chose the Marauders over him.

Since they had renewed their friendship on the train to Hogwarts, they had spent hours studying together in the library, meeting to go over Potions assignments together and occasionally on the grounds. Things had subtly changed between them in those casual hours, in a way she had been able to ignore behind all her other duties.

Which is why being alone with Sev scared the shit out of her.

He didn't pause in his long legged stride until they were far away from the dungeons, until he had pulled her into an old abandoned classroom.

Once inside, he cast several charms over their surroundings. Candlelight erupted from the ends of several half gone wax candles. Sound pillowed against the wall of silence that would hide them and their conversation. And once his eyes had scanned the room for any further potential surprises, Severus' eyes fixed on hers again.

Lily found herself backing with each step he took towards her, until she was pressed into a desk and his arms braced on either side. She was pinned against him, she couldn't find her tongue or her thoughts and she had never before seen the storm so evident in his onyx eyes.

Only then did he speak over her. "What the _hell_ are you doing down here Lily? Don't you have any idea what might have happened to you if you were caught by anyone besides me? Haven't I told you enough times what they do to Muggles?!" His face looked so pale in the candlelight, in contrast with his dark eyes and the potion smoked hair falling into his eyes.

She frowned. "I'm doing my job Sev! And what were you doing talking to Travers anyway? You promised…" Emotion stole the rest of the rant she had been preparing. Severus always had a knack of getting rid of her temper, probably as much as he invoked it.

Yet he was her best friend. Even after what he said last term, he _had_ apologized the first chance she'd give him on the train.

"Lily…" He breathed, a flicker of something else in his eyes stealing his anger. "I have to play both sides. Remember what I told you? I'm in too deep to suddenly become neutral now. It will take time. _You _promised you would be patient."

Before the run-in with Black, Lily might not have listened to the rest of his pathetic excuses. But _after_ she saw how upset he was, saw past the mask he tried to hide from everyone...

What she saw now was different. Maybe she had tried to ignore the intensity and the passion in Sev's eyes because it was easier not to face? With a sigh she tried again, "I just don't want you risking yourself like this anymore. Voldemort isn't going to let you choose both sides." Maybe she was afraid of losing her first and truest friend? Of losing him to the Dark Arts he was so good at. Or maybe she was afraid of the familiar emotion burning in her blood because of moments like these. When he was so close she could smell his aftershave, could feel the hard body he hid beneath layers of black cloaks.

He smiled. "You've been worrying about me again."

It shook her how close his words echoed Alice's accusation. She challenged, "So what if I worry? Somebody has to worry about you!"

"No one else ever bothered before. Why should you?" His hooked nose was sharp as his eyes had grown soft and heated, tender.

Lily felt every inch their bodies were connected, gasped when she realized he had leaned closer.

"_I will spend every day of my life making it up to you Lils…"_ he had promised her. He had also promised to protect her and both of them decided it was better not to reveal their friendship to the rest of Hogwarts. Not until after graduation.

Though she hated to admit it, Alice was right. Lily had been too angry with the Marauders to notice the young man pressed against her.

Before, Severus would given her space, the instant his temper fell away. He was always a gentleman with her. He never made her uncomfortable, even though Lily _knew _deep down how he really felt. And it was only then Evans realized who the unappreciated _Rhett Butler_ really was in her life. She'd agreed to be friends with him again in part to piss off Potter and Black. She'd wanted James to hurt as much as she did every time she saw Hermione on his arm.

But there was another part…a hidden part…that missed Sev too much _not_ to be close to him anymore.

She was bracing against the desk with her palms. Their legs brushed together, his chest against hers. Confusion mirrored in her eyes, as well as something she once fancied she wanted.

_He saw it_.

And then his lips brushed hers, softly, eyes never leaving hers.

Lily gasped, stole his breath into hers and before she realized she was kissing _him_. The tide that swept through her was so powerful she trembled and grasped at him, clung to his neck and sat upon the desk to further draw him in.

_This is what I've been missing, _she thought and froze.

His hands had moved to caress her cheeks and he pulled back the instant she hesitated.

_Always a gentleman…_

Both gasped to catch their breath, the kiss over as quickly and passionately as it had begun.

Tears escaped his fathomless eyes. When he pressed his forehead to hers, she realized just how shaken up he was. Then again, not even his own mother had touched him, no one ever touched him except for Lily. And as she ran her fingers through his long silky hair she realized _everything _had just changed.

_Oh shit._

"Lily…I was wondering if you wanted to accompany me to Hogsmeade."

Even she had to admit her laugh sounded a little hysterical. But she had just thoroughly snogged her best friend. "Sev, the trip isn't scheduled until October fifth." A rare smile lit his solemn features. It totally changed the sour expression into something that Lily found adorable.

"I don't want you to go with anyone else." His eyes traced the features his hands couldn't reach quickly enough.

A rare smile lit his solemn features. It totally changed the sour expression into something that Lily found adorable. "I don't want you to go with anyone else." His eyes traced the features his hands couldn't reach quickly enough.

When those long fingers combed through her hair Lily tightened her legs around him.

_How did those get there?_ She thought with a delirious giggle.

"It's not like you have any competition…" Yet she wondered as she rested her cheek against his chest. "Sev, what about our promise? I thought we weren't going to let anyone know we were speaking again? You said it was safer."

His arms wrapped so tightly around her then, as if afraid to let go. "I'll never let anyone harm you Lily. I'll die before I let that happen!"

She soothed him with the press of her palm to his neck. "I know."

_What does this all mean? When did things change? When did I start caring for Sev like this? When did it start feeling so right to be here?_

With a smile she sank further into his arms.

_Guess this is the end of my little obsession. Alice will be relieved. _

"Sev?"

"Hmm?" He pulled away, _not _what she wanted, and smiled to find her indignant expression. Lily couldn't ever really know that with one kiss, she had just given Severus Snape the world.

"What are we going to do about…_this_?" Motioning between them with a palm, she grinned when she realized she wanted to kiss him again. Just for that adorably smug look in his eye.

"Whatever you want to do about it Lily. Either way…" He brushed his lips over her cheek, her forehead, her chin, the corner of her mouth and paused, "I'm not letting go now that I have you."

Lily smiled because he was absolutely right. He had her, and she was beginning to suspect he might have easily all along if he'd only tried sooner. "We should keep it just between us for now. The last thing I want to deal with is everyone else's immaturity."

He nodded, already too distracted to really listen. They _were _seventeen still. "Mhmm…" His kiss before had been hesitant. Now it was confident and insistent and Lily answered his unspoken question.

_I do want you Sev._

She would worry later that they ended up releasing years of pent up sexual tension after hours later. Or that neither she nor Severus discussed how they were going to go to Hogsmeade together without acting like a couple. She would worry about how Sirius eyed her so suspiciously when she showed up still smiling goofily to the Head Dorm much later.

But either way, she was _his_. And that Saturday night was the first happy one Lily Evans had experienced in a long time.

* * *

**Review: Were any of you surprised by this? Is it a yay or nay? **


	20. II: black

**PART 2: Hogwarts**

**Chapter 20**

**Black**

* * *

"Okay, Peter try it again," she began patiently. "But I swear on Salazar's crooked nose if you don't get it right this time I _will_ hex you into the next oblivion!"

Sirius chuckled to himself as he watched the bushy haired Witch become even more bushy haired after her hour with Wormtail. Not that he could blame her. He and James had given up tutoring Pete after Fifth Year.

"Em…" The aforementioned Marauder squinted hard at the parchment rolled out between them. He wrung the feathered quill until it was clear he'd need a new one before long.

Sirius always bought him extra quills every Christmas for this very reason.

"Is it…t-tiwaz?" Twisting his round face up from its hunched position hopefully.

Miss Dumbledore's lips drew together pensively, eyes narrowed and flickering briefly to the occupied Werewolf nearby them. "Remus, I told you not to interfere! Don't think I didn't see!"

Sirius barely suppressed his laughter while Remus blushed beet red and mumbled some apology. Her eyes were on him like a tack and Sirius didn't bother to ignore the hormonal jolt that look sent straight to his cock.

_James you lucky bastard…_he thought for the fiftieth time that week.

Thankfully Hermione turned her attention back to Pete's paper, even more determined. "Peter you can't rely on them anymore for the answers. All right?"

Wormtail nodded though he didn't seem very convinced. "All right Hermione." When she ducked her head to point out the problem with his answers, Pete met Sirius' eye across the way and smirked.

_Manipulative git._

Sirius shook his head. Pete wasn't the prettiest of them but that didn't mean he didn't know how to work his own angle. The look clearly spoke what they all knew. Even though Hermione was practically James', it didn't change the fact she was fuckin' gorgeous. Or least that was the Sirius version of the truth.

He tried to attack his Transfiguration homework again, tried to keep his brilliant mind focused for more than ten seconds…But that was when she threw down her hand on the Common Room desk.

"Peter I _know_ you didn't get this one wrong too! After we studied for three bloody hours together? No wonder Professor Babbling called you out in front of the class!"

Sirius chuckled from behind the parchment held up in his hands. "She has a point, Wormtail."

Hermione glared at him in vengeful fury. "And if _you_ hadn't kept him awake the entire night after Slytherin won the Hufflepuff match, drinking Firewhiskey…"

Remus rolled his eyes from his third completed assignment and pile of papers strewn round him on James' couch.

Sirius dropped the parchment and held up his hands. "Oi, give a bloke a break love! We were pissed the Puffs didn't puff up their balls better. But at least we won the pool, yeah Pete?"

Peter's grin disappeared the moment Hermione noticed it and she shook her head. "Sometimes I wonder why I even bother. You know for all the trouble you give Slytherin you certainly live up to our expectations sometimes."

Remus paused from his study then, peeking with keen interest, gray eyes darting back and forth to see who would win this latest match.

Sirius would be lying if he said he didn't find them the highlight of his week. Setting his scroll down he leaned his elbows onto his knees and tossing his hair from his eyes gave her a devilish smirk. "I love it when you talk dirty, love."

Rolling her eyes she stuck her nose up and stood. "You are filthy disgusting pig of a human being Sirius Black."

Sirius's brows rose even as his grin matched the depth of her glare. "See how hard you make this for me, Mione? It'd be so much easier if you said yes to me and left my sod of a best mate."

Remus' brows rose dramatically.

Pete sank deeper into his seat and glanced, pointing his finger, past him.

Sirius froze but it was too late to stop he rreaction. He'd pushed the right buttons for once.

"For the last time, Sirius Black! James Potter and I are _not _a couple!"

He hid his face in his hands and dared a peek over his shoulder.

James stood inside the portrait hole, weather beat from the last rigorous hour of Quidditch practice, looking at Hermione as if he'd just been hit with a bludger.

And Hermione bit her lip and sank into her chair, dragging Pete into another pointless discussion over Ancient Runes.

Sirius had spent most of his life watching James Potter's reactions, stepping in only when necessary, because quite frankly his best mate could be bloody hilarious. Right now however was neither the time to intervene or to laugh out loud. Especially when Prong's triumphant grin faded the instant he heard his Witch's declaration.

Sirius hung his head into his hands again.

_After weeks of getting him to admit and do something about it!_

"Hey Prongs." Moony offered belatedly. "Practice was shite again?"

When Sirius dared another glance he found James' crestfallen expression replaced with a fury directed toward _him_.

_This is bad…_Because Sirius knew that look too well. He had seen it grow darker every time Evans treated him like shite. It nearly caused them to lose the final game to Ravenclaw last term.

"I need another shower," James said in a strained voice. And without another word he disappeared through the ornate door labeled _Head Boy_.

The moment he was gone Remus turned on him. "Well that was just brilliant Padfoot, you prat! Why can't you ever use your head instead of your arse to speak?" He started gathering his notes immediately, shaking his head to brush aside his own temper.

_Least it's not that time of the month again yet. Otherwise he would've used his fists._

Sirius was in a foul mood. Because he knew his best mate was pissed and hurt because of _him_ and because without James' Quidditch updates he didn't have a clue how tomorrow's match might turn up. This could sorely put a dent on his profits. Especially with Gryffindor's captain off his game…and he _would_ be off his game.

_If we thought things with Evans fucked him up…_

He found his gaze resting on Hermione and wondered how long he had been staring because she suddenly glared right back at him. And he ran through the list of ways to make this up to her.

_You'll have to act fast Pads…_

"Hermione? What do you say we get a bit of fresh air, yeah?" He hadn't the slightest idea how much like his Animagus form he looked in that moment.

Her mask had dropped the moment James fled the scene and with a quick smile for Peter and hand to his shoulder she did the unthinkable. She stood and without grabbing her bag said, "I'll be back in a few. And I'd better see some real progress on this Pete."

"Sure thing Mione." He offered a hopeful grin and screwed his face as he turned back to the hen scratched parchment.

Remus glared balefire his way, that was both threat and warning before picking up his next three-weeks-ahead assignment.

Sirius took her hand and attached it to his arm and led them quickly out of what she'd named the Marauder's Common Room. The moment they stepped through she turned on him.

"Sirius Black, do you have any idea…"

He interrupted, "Listen, Hermione. I know I can be something of a prat at times."

"Sometimes…" she snorted.

Grinning slightly, he added, "But I can't express to you how much it would mean to me if you would cheer up my best mate." He couldn't help the Marauding glint that caught his eye.

The moment she saw it her eyes narrowed. "Why do I have the feeling I'm not going to like this?"

They froze by the window that was bleeding light into the dim castle hall.

_Oh I think you will, love…_

"This has nothing to do with you! Well all right, maybe a bit. But you know how upset Prongs is probably feeling right now. I know you're not his bird or anything, but you can't honestly say this week of flirting…"

"I do not flirt!" She opened her mouth to say more and glared when he silenced her with a finger.

"Let the genius finish, please. Ready to listen? Good." He removed his finger also because he wouldn't put it past her to bite him. She'd done it once before. And he couldn't help his grin at the potentially sexual situations that one sentence inspired. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he continued, "Gryffindor faces off Ravenclaw tomorrow, and everyone knows Selwyn never plays a fair game. Not to mention everyone saw what an arse Prongs made of himself for Evans and Selwyn hasn't forgotten it. We're going to need our captain in top condition."

"And that's where I supposedly come in…Sirius what exactly are you trying to con me into?"

"Now you know we consider you one of us, Mione. Just haven't found the proper code name yet." She rolled his eyes and he grinned, knowing he was already winning her over. "And when a Marauder sees a fellow brother in trouble he does everything he can to help him. You being the—proportionate bird that you are, have the—ability—to do a lot more than we can." All it took was one sly trail of his eye down her ample form and she backed away, horrified.

"What? You can't possibly be…"

"Seriously Mione, would I ever ask you to do anything compromising your honor?" When her pointed, crossed-arm glare answered him he grinned. "Yeah okay, maybe I would. But Marauder's honor I swear I am up to no good! And right now James needs you to get that confidence back."

"This has nothing to do with the fact you're betting galleons on Gryffindor's success?" Her lips twitched slightly and he knew he had already won. "So what _do_ you want me to do?"

He shrugged. "I'll get you inside. I'm sure you can think of the rest." His smirk fell with her next words.

"And what will you give me in return?"

_Never trust a Snake…_

He shook his head but didn't mask his pride. After all she may be a Snake but she was _their Snake_. "I'm sure you'll think of something."

Eyebrows raised she stuck out her hand. "Is that a promise?"

Against his better judgment he took her hand and gave his most innocent grin. "Upon my honor." And winced when she wandlessly sent a jolt through their linked hands.

_What the hell?_

She led him back in by the hand after a gleefully spoken, "Orange Kneazles."

* * *

Hermione knew better than to seal a bargain with a Black, even if it meant he had to pay her back evenly one day in return or find his head bald for a month. It was somewhat devious of her to jinx him like that, but she needed _something_ to ensure she wasn't risking everything for nothing.

Not that his proposition wasn't _tempting_.

Hermione would be blind not to know Sirius' triple intentions. This was more than just a bet over Quidditch or helping a fellow Marauder out. They were all waiting to see what happened between she and James these days.

Indeed she found her body tightening with more and more electricity every time they touched, felt her magic threaten to burst uncontrollably every time their eyes met and he drew near.

Ever since the day he had turned time to whisk her away to Hogsmeade, or maybe since the evening they spent with Hagrid before that, things were changing. They had happened so suddenly that Hermione forgot she was supposed to keep James at a distance. She forgot for three blessed weeks that she was a potential Death Eater with a borrowed legacy and name that may or may not be her own. She really had begun to think of herself a Dumbledore when she had no time to actually _think_ about it.

But moments like these, when this new Hermione took charge and made such irrational impulsive decisions, whoever she was before James had found her came back to haunt her. And taunted her bloody conscience at the worst of times.

Like the moment after Astronomy when he drew her palm to his lips with less than honorable intentions.

When they hid beneath the invisibility cloak the night before sneaking into the kitchens after hours and his eyes blazed with cracking restraint.

Or the morning he used the Time Turner yet again to steal more hours with her between classes, this time to explore the Forbidden Forest. She thought he was mental, but James only laughed and hinted he was just as dangerous as the next Centaur. When they began a wandless hexing war, somehow she had ended up on the ground with him draped between her legs, breath colliding.

_You're walking on dangerous waters, Hermione…_her conscience reminded her.

Truthfully she had been ever since she met him at the Hag's statue. That damned letter of his changed every day with new "instructions" or notes and sketches to make her laugh during class.

She spent entirely too much time with the Marauders in Lefay and Macbeth's opinion. But she was, like them, too far on the fringe of Slytherin politics and too powerful in her own right to stir any real resentment from her Housemates.

That wasn't to say Regu—_Black_—hadn't noticed or made a comment or two during Potions. He hadn't given up his attempts to "protect her" any more than the other Slytherin gits stopped sending her anonymous flowers and requests to put _Potter_ aside.

Hermione found her rationale in spending so much time with James in the Gala. Of _course_ she had to spend time with him if she were going to be proper escort. Dorea's letters had encouraged her latest decision and if anything encouraged her to be open to his leading. He was the one who was supposed to know more about his stupid thing anyhow.

Yet she couldn't ignore the shadow of the person she truly was that somehow tried to pull her desperately in the opposite direction Sirius was leading her.

After ignoring the curious glances from the boys he winked at her once before tapping the door with his wand and upon opening, shoved her through.

Hermione froze just inside James' doorway and stared.

The size of the Head Boy dorm was impressive, at least as large as her dorm in the dungeons. There was a large sitting area and very thick rug in front of a large fire. The furnishings were devoted entirely to Gryffindor of course from wall hangings to tapestries. Orange and gold and deep amber and reds balanced with dark brown set off the very masculine appeal to the room. And yet the only thing that really made the place scream _James' room_ was the Nimbus carelessly tossed aside on his bed.

_Sweet Merlin…_

The bed was _huge_, covered in dark brown and gold sheets, giving her the childish impulse to rush and flop on top of it.

_No, Hermione…_

Hands balled into fists she took her first tentative steps forward and wondered just exactly what she was supposed to _do_ that would lighten James' mood.

_Only because of what you let Sirius goad you into saying!_

Her fingers graced the edges of the furniture and she stepped deeper, saw the desk hidden behind an ancient stone bracing that curved the eastern wall. He'd shoved his curtains over the window apparently. And also thrown his clothes haphazardly on the way to the nearby doorway.

She froze.

_Oh no, he said he was taking another shower…_

Indeed the rush of water pounded against the nearby wall and she found herself backing until her bum made contact with something incredibly silky and soft. Ducking down she realized she was half sitting on his bed and biting her lip, glancing about quickly to be certain no one saw…

She jumped up onto the unmade covers and couldn't help but to fall back the moment she sank into the slice of heaven. "Not fair at all…" Their beds weren't half this comfortable!

The door was opening before she had enough time to prepare.

_When did the shower turn off?_

She was sitting, half braced back and flushed, hair disheveled and suddenly wishing she had her cloak on over the strapless sundress.

_Sirius you git, I swear if you set me up I'll never give you your hair back!_

All protests stopped along with the rest of her bodily functions the moment a wet and barely dressed James Potter stepped into his room. He was _bloody sexy_. It was fact, not simply biased opinion. Glasses still fogged from the bathroom's steam his black mop stood straight up in every direction. His muscled chest flexed with each step he took.

_Merlin, is there anything soft about him?_ She began to panic as her eyes led her lower, past the washboard cut abs and beginning trail of hair disappearing into his towel.

She breathed inner relief.

_Thank Godric for the towel…wait he's about to drop it!_

And snapped her gaze back to his the moment she felt his eyes find her.

James blinked, gripped his towel so suddenly, it nearly slipped again. He pulled off his glasses and shoved them back on to be certain he wasn't dreaming. Then he blushed past his tan skin and stammered, because how was Hermione supposed to know how she looked propped back on _his_ bed just like she was in his randiest fantasies? "H-her-Hermione!" His fingers twitched the ones holding the towel and his eyes never left hers. "W-what are you…how did you?" He motioned dramatically from the door to his bed and back with his free hand, eyes burning hotly.

She blinked, tried not to sound so breathless when she began, "Well I felt bad about what happened out there…" A dark look crossed his features immediately turned to something so sad and broken she wished she could do anything to banish it away forever. Rushing on nervously she stepped back to the edge of his bed. "And…and Sirius sort of let me through so I could—could talk to you about it and a-apologize."

"So you just thought you'd break into the Head Boy's dorm…"

She nodded dumbly. _How exactly is this supposed to work Padfoot!_

"And remind me again that you're _not_ my girlfriend?"

Mouth opened and closed, her eyes had fallen to the ground between them and to her amazement he closed the space between until she could see his bare feet. Somehow they didn't look as ugly as boy feet were supposed to look.

_Or maybe you're just biased you shallow bint. Look him in the eye!_

She tried, she truly did. She made it so far as the washboard abs and pecs, until his finger on her chin forced her to look at him. She was surprised to see that cocky smirk of his fixed on his face. It was his only defense against the utter vulnerability hidden in his hazel eyes.

So she tried, "Y-yes…I mean no! I just wanted to tell you sorry. That you had to hear it that way, even though it's not as if it matters. I know we're just friends. Sirius just likes to tease me and it gets old after a while. You know?"

His grin was sad and maybe a little disappointed. "Yeah, I know." Dropping his finger he walked over to his wardrobe and found a pair of briefs and a pair of Muggle jeans. Hermione averted her eyes, disbelieving when he started to change behind her.

_This isn't working…_

She turned before she should have, just as he was zipping up his jeans, his hands digging for his Cannon's tee shirt. She knew it was his favorite shirt because it was the first shirt she'd ever seen him wear and he'd worn it every time he flew for fun since.

The memory of the wind in her hair, fear making her vision blur past her eyes, the hard muscled body she was pressed against, the only thing keeping her from falling to the earth…caused something to rise up and possess Hermione then. "Here, let me help."

She began to search through a pile of nearby clothes, _thankfully clean_, and noticed he bent to the same pile as she did. Their fingers brushed often, too often for her comfort. She may be friends with James Potter, the _best _of friends as far as her limited list came, however undefined the gray lines became. He had saved her life and helped her find a new one.

_It's the only reason he invited you as his escort…with a bit of help from Charlus…_

Relief filled her the moment she found the black tee and stood a rush, unsteadily after smelling the seductive scent of his soap.

He followed her and watched on with a slightly amused grin. "How'd you know that was the one I was looking for?" Something in the hitch of his voice told her he wanted her to know _why_.

Holding the fabric bunched in her hands, inches in front of him she forced a calm smile. "It's the first shirt I ever saw you wear. You wore it both times we flew together. I guessed it might be your favorite."

His grin deepened, amber flecks of his eyes glowing from the nearby candlelight. "You'd be right."

She nodded and without any _clue_ of what to do next straightened the tee and glanced shyly up at him.

He held his arms out and bent so that she could pull the shirt through its holes and over his head, careful of his spectacles.

Her nose brushed against his wet hair, _breath hitched at the contact_, but was forced to concentrate immediately on getting the rest of the fabric over his long torso.

She bit her lip as her fingers brushed over the defined muscles and tugged the rest of the tee down.

He let her smooth down the fabric over his stomach, stood immobile when she hesitantly drew her hands back up and rested over his upper chest.

And then she dared to meet his eye.

Still bent to accommodate her, his soft yet sad grin had turned into something decidedly _different_ and when his hands covered hers, "So Sirius thought he could make up for being a _wanker_ by sending you to cheer me up?"

She nodded hesitantly, "Is it working?"

His eyes searched her face, searched for _something_ and Hermione wished she could answer it. Then he breathed, "Hell yeah." And the shadow masking his face lifted and _her _James peeked through.

Her grin was instantaneous and a weight lifted off her shoulders, though not necessarily from her inner core. "I'm glad. I would hate to see you so mad at Sirius you couldn't concentrate on the game."

His frown was almost untraceable, almost angry. "Don't worry about Padfoot, love. I'll make certain he gets his next time he tries to ask his new bird out." He grinned when she tried to pull away and sighed. His hands reached up to smooth slowly over her bare shoulders, "Mione, why do you always pull away now when I touch you?"

Blinking back her surprise, "What? James, that is ridiculous! You know I trust you with my life." And she took _even herself_ by surprise with the admission because it was _true_.

He nodded, concentrating hard as his eyes smoldered into hers. "Yeah…I just wish you wouldn't keep shutting me out all the time. So what if everyone thinks you're my girlfriend? That's what we wanted them all to think isn't it? Padfoot's baiting you because he thinks he needs to play matchmaker."

"It has helped smooth over a few problems with my House." It was a test of her resolve when his hands moved from her shoulders, down to press over her lower back and draw her in.

"See?" With a slow smile, he said, "Told you. You have to stop pulling away Mione. I've told you before I'm not going anywhere. And I'm one of the few people who really _knows _what a nutcase you are."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Her eyes narrowed, the Slytherin mask his mum had taught her freezing into place. By the twitch of her lips he knew she was teasing him.

So he pushed back by drawing her closer…until their hips rocked together and his fingers dug lower than he'd dared before. His control was slipping. They'd been playing this dance for the past two weeks now, longer than that if James was honest with himself. Longer if Hermione ever allowed her heart or her thoughts to go that far.

She couldn't deny that the feelings rocking through her body now were not the platonic sort, nor had they ever been. And judging by the tight control of his clenched features…

She knew instantly what would make him feel better and _more_ than seal the deal with Sirius. She could deal with the consequences later. It had nothing to do with her desires or secret dreams of course, nothing romantic about it, simple logic if she were to secure the match. They were just friends right? They would laugh about it later wouldn't they?

James' eyes widened, mouth opened slightly when her gaze fixed onto his lips and moving her hands to brace onto his shoulders, Hermione let herself fall into him.

She pressed her lips onto his, pulled back at the fiery, all consuming jolt of _power_, of _something_ pierce through her and rip away at her own control, the walls she had built. It was painful in its restraint, so sweet to taste and so pleasurable it threatened to tear her apart. Eyes shut, she moaned as she sank further into him again, sucked his lower lip between hers lightly before doing the same with the upper, arched her back further, closer, _tighter_.

She felt it before he moved, the recognition and disbelief and wonder and overwhelming _need_ that made him tremble against her, that made months of self control unravel in a matter of seconds. She knew he wanted to protect her, that he would never take advantage of her. And she didn't want to make him hate her later on, did not want him to regret a simple reaction to _her _impulsive actions.

So she pulled away panting and unsteady on her feet, hands on her scarlet cheeks and a dazed look in her eye as she dared to look up at him.

And wished she hadn't.

Because _the world_ was in his eyes then and his grin split his face in two.

Shakily she began to back away, "That was for luck…in case I don't see you before the match tomorrow…" He moved as though to follow her, to grab her, she did not know. She was too afraid to find out, and opened and closed his door behind her and wondered _what the hell_ she had just done.

* * *

**Review: ... ... ...**

**Predictions: How do you think James is gonna react?**


	21. II: hidden in the gray

_**A/N: This one goes to Diamondheart07, who really wanted an update :D **__In love with the story, with you readers and the written word. _

_**Disclaimer: (here was my original post and I thought it might be fun to revisit:) **First off, I saw Part 2 this past weekend and listened to the soundtrack while writing this. It broke my heart when the movie ended because it was like saying goodbye to my childhood and teen years even though they ended a while ago lol. I am so thankful to Rowling and the movie magic makers for giving us such a powerful story to follow._

* * *

**PART 2: Hogwarts**

**Chapter 21**

**Hidden in the Gray**

* * *

His nasally voice cracked as he grumbled, "And you're sure about this are you?" The narrowed eyes of the Ravenclaw, a head shorter than him, fixed onto the ticket in his palm.

Smoothly he replied, "Course it is Pince! Would I lie when I've known the bloke all my life?"

The librarian's scrawny nephew grumbled to himself as Pete ushered him away, sounding out a very loud, "Next!"

The line went on and Sirius was already calculating the earnings they were about to make off the upcoming match. If the look on James' face the night before was any indication, ten zillion times wilder than the time Evans spoke civilly to him fourth year. He chuckled as he finished booking the last bet from a pair of hopeful eyed Hufflepuffs.

Everyone trusted the word of Sirius Black, unofficial Hogwarts bookie and self proclaimed opportunist. Remus and James were either too moral or too honest to dabble this far on the edge of law. The one time Sirius tried getting James in on a cut, his best mate boxed his ear and threatened to toss him off his broom.

"All right that's it ladies and gentlemen! Pleasure doing business with you," he announced to the greedy gents before them.

Pete added as he shooed the rest away, wand in hand, "Always remember if it ain't Black it ain't worth shat."

Sirius rolled his eyes at Pete's coined and grammatically incorrect motto. If only Mione could see him now. Sometimes he truly wondered if the rat ever used his brain.

Once the unused classroom was cleared and all trace of Filch lost on the Marauder's Map he set everything into the bottomless pit of his old knapsack. He was rolling up the map when Wormtail returned with a gleam in his pale eyes.

"We gonna cash in this time Padfoot?"

Sirius smirked. "Oh you can bet your sainted mother's bunions on that one Pete." He slung his sack over his shoulder and left through another door that would take them through one of Hogwarts many hidden passages.

Wormtail piped up again, close to his side, "One thing I'm curious about though."

"What's that Pete?" Sirius grinned to himself. It was all too beautiful to mess up really, which is why he kept his trap shut.

"Yesterday you swore James was gonna ruin our chances. Then after Hermione left our common room you were back to being an arrogant bastard again."

Sirius met Pete's grin with one of his own. One reason he loved having Wormtail around was because his mind could be just as devious as a Snake's. "All in good time Pete. Just watch the master and learn."

Pushing the door slowly aside he poked his head slowly from behind the tapestry covering the passage entrance. Dawn peeked through the smoke vents high above, shining a dim morning light below. They had turned up at west end of the castle in another nondescript rarely used hallway on the second floor.

Sirius's stomach was grumbling and his morning crankiness was swept aside at the thought of a mile high stack of pancakes and bacon.

"Gotta go meet up with McKinnon now mate," Pete offered once they had made the turn and began to head towards the Great Hall.

Sirius slung an arm round the shorter Gryffindor. "McKinnon eh? You sly sneak of a rat! You do me proud sometimes Wormtail, you know that?"

Pete nodded to himself, instead of blushing like he usually did, when the kind blonde was mentioned. "Oh really? Yeah…well I try…" Glancing once to meet his friends' eye, Wormtail slipped out of reach and shuffled with his hands in his pants pockets. "See ya at the game Padfoot."

Sirius paused to frown a moment after and mused to himself, "Must be shagging her…"

James was an early riser, unlike himself and Wormtail. With the exception of the morning of the next Quidditch match and his occasional rendezvous with a broom cupboard and his latest bird. So it was no surprise when James came running down the hall at that moment, already dressed in his uniform and obviously recently off the broom, judging by how his black hair stuck up in every direction.

"Padfoot! Wait up!"

Sirius grinned smugly at the dramatic difference in his best mate's demeanor, compared to the drag he had been the last month and a half. They walked to the Great Hall together in step.

"Haven't been tiring too soon before the game have you Prongs?" Sirius innocently inquired.

James blushed deep through his sun warmed skin and grinned goofily. "I don't think anything could do that Pads!" He popped his back with a twist of his arms. "Right now I'm on top of the world and I'm gonna give Selwyn hell for what he pulled last spring."

Sirius flashed a grin every bit as confident and eager. "Hope you leave some of him left to let me in on the fun." Smashing a fist in to his palm, he added, "The git owes me for _not_ cursing his ass onto his face…"

James laughed, "Can't wait to see how you pull off that one!"

"Says the Head Boy. Sure is great to have you back Prongs. Glad we convinced Hermione to ease up enough to waste her time with us yeah?" He was baiting him and his intentions weren't entirely honorable. But he really _did _need the extra money for his burgeoning enterprise and he _did_ genuinely care to see his best mate happy. Not to mention it was a hell of a lot more fun marauding with Prongs than without him.

A frown crossed James' features and his voice lowered. "She…I thought I should…" Clenching his gloved fists, James glared up at the opposite end of the long corridor and grimaced. "Hermione left after wishing me luck yesterday. You know why she didn't stick around? We were supposed to raid the kitchens for a couple more slices of yesterday's dessert and I—I just wondered if she said anything to you?"

Sirius' eyes widened. _Holy shit!_ He knew that look too well. But he never would have imagined Hermione actually would go through with it! His grin threatened to be just as gregarious as one of James' as he burst. "She ride your broom Prongsie?" Elbowing him was a mistake because James punched him _hard_ on the offending arm.

"Shut it! Hermione's not your usual brand of Witch, Pads and I hate it when you talk like she is!"

Palms up in defeat, he countered, "No need to go spare Prongsie it was a joke!"

_Sort of…_

James nodded in acceptance and Sirius was beginning to really wonder exactly what Hermione had done to keep her end of the bargain? She'd been in there a while, not too long but long enough he supposed…

Running a hand through his already messy hair, James attempted to explain. "I just can't get her out of my head. It's worse than its been before. I thought I could ignore it but I can't…Pads," He began with a look Sirius had never seen the like of on his face in all the years they'd been friends. And to his amazement, instead of blurting out all the nasty dirty details like he would have in the past, James turned and thrust his wand arm out without hesitation.

Wandlessly, he shouted,_"_**Expelliarmus!**_"_

And the group of Slytherins that had been ready to ambush them scattered.

"Fuck!" Sirius cursed and snatched his wand out of his back jeans pocket and barely managed a **protego** as a nasty purple hued spell met his shield.

Thus far Sirius had kept to his word and managed to avoid the usual hexing wars with their house rivals. But the more time Hermione spent with the Marauders, the more that itch in the back of his head burned and told him things wouldn't take long to turn nasty. Obviously, since the Snakes dared to attack them before breakfast on the day James was supposed to play the Lions' first match.

Faces masked with the cowl of their cloaks, the bitches put up an outnumbered and unfair fight.

They stood back to back, weaving in and out of one another as James generally attacked first and Sirius took defensive.

Two of the seven were stumbling away after a couple of James' hexes met their face. Rocks crumbled from the ceiling above and fell over their heads as they ran, knocking them to the floor. The other five were incensed at the fall of their brothers and renewed the attack.

_They know James is Head Boy. What the fuck are they trying to pull?_

"**Stupefy!**" Sirius cast just as James shouted another wandless, "**Obscuro!**" Sirius grinned when the Slytherin stumbled into another, hand grasping at his face trying to see. Both of them were laughing now and Sirius turned to stand side by side and offer, "Nice one James!" while dodging a loudly shouted **reducto**.

"**Expelliarmus!**" Another of the Snakes' wands flew into James' hand and if his wandless threat was bad enough, _with _one he was down right scary.

"**Incarcerous!**" A nearby bitch shouted and both dove to either side of the narrow hall to avoid the robes grasping for them. Without their initial target the ropes latched onto the Slytherin's fallen comrade.

Yet Sirius hissed when a stinging hex grabbed his thigh and turned vengeful to the bastard who just turned and grabbing two of his friends with a quick levitation spell tried running away. "Son of a bitch!"

James laughed, "Is that the best you can do?" His eye met Sirius' and they shared a particularly wicked grin before jumping up and pointing their wands side by side, Sirius' right arm to James' left and shouted together, "**Confundo!**" It was their personal favorite, because the remaining Death Eaters began to stumble and rush a troubled collective into one another. One simply forgot what he was doing.

"Let's finish them off!" Sirius grumbled eagerly.

"NO." Was his friend's reply as he threw the Slytherin's wand to the floor and walked up to one of the nearby fallen to rip off his mask.

Sirius came to stand at his side and sneered, "That's Travers, one of Snivellus' little friends isn't it? I swear if he set us up!"

James pushed his friend back with a strong yet trembling arm, exposing just how troubled he was by the attack.

Sirius shoved a nearby Slytherin into the ground in his frustration. "Prongs we _have _to do something! They can't get away with this one!"

A frown contorted James' features and he glanced back at him with the beginnings of a smile. "They won't. And we aren't going to report this. Come on, we need to go, before people notice we aren't at breakfast." By the sudden eagerness in his step, Sirius knew he was thinking about Hermione again.

Staring in disbelief at the wreckage around them, he asked, "How are we gonna explain this?"

James threw back a glance and with a lift of his hand whispered, "**Reparo.**" The stone rushed up to find its place on the castle walls and ceiling above and all that was left was a huddle of confused and unconscious Slytherins covered in dust.

Sirius jogged to match his stride. "Aren't you at least gonna take away House points or something? They could have killed us! Or worse, hexed you till you'd never be able to ride a broom again!"

James rolled his eyes. "Relax Pads. That's what they want us to do. Otherwise they wouldn't attack the Head Boy would they?" He turned calculating, planning, "We need to find out who was behind this and why. There had to be a reason…"

Throwing his arms dramatically around them Sirius tried to walk off the stinging hex still clenching his thigh muscle in uncomfortable ways, "Of course there is, they're fucking Death Eaters! What other reason is there? And we need to go to Dumbledore, tell him exactly what's going on…"

"And tell him why you were here so early when you never get up until five minutes before breakfast?"

Sirius ducked his head sheepishly though not with any less defiance. "Point taken. But don't think I'm gonna let this one go Prongs. You know they've had it out for us ever since third year…"

"And we've been pranking them long before that. There's a million ways they could blackmail us Padfoot. If we give into this, we lose in more ways than one. Not saying I'm not out for blood, but we have to think about the people who don't have any part in this. They're the ones they'll go to next if we rat them out."

"You've gone soft ever since little Miss Dumbledore..." He didn't get to finish because James turned suddenly, grabbed his tee shirt with a fist.

"I've gotten smarter. We've gotta start thinking about this like a war or we're not gonna last five months out there as Aurors. You've seen what they do to those who cross _him_. We can't keep acting like this only affects us." Letting Sirius go in a huff, James stalked away before Padfoot could see the pain in his eyes.

Sirius grinned and raced to catch up, slapping him on the shoulder. "Okay Prongs. You say wait, we wait, yeah? And I do think about them too you know."

He was talking about Dorea and Charlus who were more like parents to him than his had ever been. He was thinking about Hermione who belonged to James yet Sirius couldn't help but fantasize about himself.

James' grin was slow and his sudden hard weariness washed away. "I know Pads. Come on let's eat. And don't think I'm going to forget about giving Slytherin hell just because we have a game to play."

Sirius laughed, "I would never dream of letting you Prongsie."

* * *

"_You're a coward Dumbledore…_" Hermione thought to herself, clenching and unclenching her fists, pacing up and down the length of her dorm in the hour just after lunchtime.

But it was true. She was a coward and she was beginning to wonder if it was such a crime to admit the truth to herself or not.

A groan from the vanity nearby and clash of cosmetics on its table caused all pacing to cease. "Are you quite finished?" Lefay's narrow gray eyes were mere slits in her mirror.

Hermione raised a single eyebrow imperially. "Forgive me if I was disrupting your daily ritual…"

Desdemona smirked, knowing full well her acquaintance meant otherwise. Setting her hands primly over the mess her temper had just made she twisted to face Hermione in the flesh. "I am simply requesting you do not dig a deeper hole into our floor with your feet."

Hermione waved her hands as if to brush away her words and fell back onto her bed in a huff. "I just happen to have a lot on my mind."

"And if anyone else in Hogwarts caught you talking to yourself like that no one would ever question your relation to our Headmaster." Lefay painted her lips like it was a fine art, the bold red somehow perfectly blending with the black ringlets pinned expertly about her head.

In contrast with Hermione's bushy mane, the latter was only further reminded of all the _other_ women James could easily fall for. She had seen Lily Evans with her emerald eyes and scarlet hair. Even Wilkes once admitted Evans was a _hot piece of ass,_ if Snape would ever lay off enough to share.

"Be careful how you speak of my _Uncle_, Lefay," Hermione warned, the fire in her golden eyes a blend of cool Pureblooded indifference and fierce loyalty.

Mona grinned, anticipating this reaction. Applying the rest of her makeup the magical way, she replied, "Don't be so easily offended Hermione. I am reminded every day how _influential_ my father's position is. At least people look to that now instead of our family history."

Hermione's eyes paused on the mirror briefly. Mona had never volunteered to discuss her roots in depth. Among Slytherin, such information was simply _known_. Were Hermione to ask it could potentially betray everything she and Dorea had worked for those last crucial days before term. Because even if she had been privately tutored before now she would already know her family tree and a vague outline of the others.

Remembering Dorea she snatched up the letter still resting on her pillow, torn open the moment she retreated from breakfast in the Great Hall.

_More like ran from him._

She shuddered to think how his eyes seared into her, the way her skin heated to burst. Even across the Great Hall she could_feel_those eyes and where they took the place of the touch he could not give her.

_He's probably wondering why the hell you kissed him Dumbledore!_

She berated herself and read over Dorea's weekly letter a third time.

'_Hermione darling, I am certain that you have realized by now being an escort does not necessitate you should feel pressure to anything other than your duty._

_Yet I cannot write without being completely honest with the questions I am certain are rolling about in your head._

_My son is not the most secretive of his family. None of the Potters ever had a talent for subtlety. Yet James likes to forget he is half of me as well._

_And there will be times when you must sort out the mystery of his actions for yourself._

_There will be times when you must trust your heart even when I know you fear to trust your hidden self._

_Trust the word of a reformed Black when I tell you I read them like the book._

_So does my son. And you my dear are a puzzle too tempting not to try and sort out._

_From what I have seen through our correspondence and time together, you have reason to trust the pieces even you do not know.'_

She barely registered Mona's donning of her casual robes, and froze when the tall Pureblood appeared at the corner of her bed.

"Are you finished talking to yourself, Dumbledore? I, for one, am ready to watch Ravenclaw slap Gryffindor's ass."

Hermione groaned. Late again. She was supposed to meet up With Remus and Pete before hand so they could sit together. Hermione knew it was a ploy to get her closer to James' line of sight. Sirius had other plans apparently, judging by his disheveled appearance at the table this morning. And the look in Mona's eye gave no room for argument.

"I'm not so sure I should go," she said.

Because all she could think about when she shut her eyes was the way his lips had felt against hers, how his hair was sharp and so soft at once…how he smelled like _home_ and how his heart shone through his eyes so boldly, she had to run away.

_It was just supposed to cheer him up. I didn't know he would see it any differently…_she tried to rationalize.

"Coming?" Lefay's narrow silver eyes turned beside the door, gloved fingers resting on the old wood. "Would you rather fantasize about Potter in bed or watch him win this match for you?"

"I'm not sure what you mean," she said while inwardly, she panicked.

_How could she have known? James didn't say anything did he? If he told Sirius I'll kill him!_

Mona rolled her eyes lazily. "Though I find your denial of his obvious affection for you amusing, I am now bored. And we all know what happens when I get bored."

Hermione sighed because Slytherin Ladies never grunted or huffed. They were well bred and if they occasionally lost their cool they recovered in seconds, unlike their ancient rivals. Something Mona had said caught her attention as she followed her friend out the door. "I thought you wanted Ravenclaw to win?"

"Maybe I'm going to this game just to see a miracle?"

* * *

Once they entered Slytherin's stands on the pitch the crowd gave way for two of its most wealthy members. Preliminaries were already out of the way and Hermione realized how late they were by the thick of the crowd and the silence dimming the roar of the mob. Slytherin wore blue and bronze only. Many of their House had refused to waste their time "_watching a bunch of mudbloods and traitors_" toss a quaffle.

She nodded to the necessary acquaintances she passed and rolled her eyes at the obvious attention of annoyingly persistent boys. Wilkes and Macbeth met them at the railing.

Even at the end of summer the north winds sank into her bones and she drew her cloak more firmly over her bare shoulders.

_Maybe you should give in and stop wearing the sundresses after all?_

"Took you long enough!" Pervincia was in a mood over something, perhaps the brunette flirting with Wilkes on his right. "Lefay I don't know why you spend so much time primping when the wind will ruin it in before the game's finished. It's already started raining!"

Desdemona's only acknowledgement was the slight tilt of her head and otherwise her gaze kept forward. "I am perfectly capable of charming my hair to perfection Macbeth. Were I a lesser Witch, perhaps I would knowingly toss an hour of work aside by not adding the necessary charms."

Ignoring the thick curls blowing madly round her head with each gust, Hermione rolled her eyes as she tuned out the usual argument. The announcements were just beginning and anticipation was building up and boiling over, because she was about to see _him _again. And she would learn soon enough how Sirius' plans turned out on the field toady.

All good feeling was swept aside the moment _Black_ dared to glare down the Fifth year beside her and take his place. The poor boy scampered away so quickly, she had the fleeting suspicion that he had been _planted_ there.

Regulus Arcturus Black eased into his classmate's spot as though he had been standing there all along. His uneven, chin length hair blew just as madly as Hermione's, yet she couldn't help but catch his sapphire shaded amusement, along with something else Hermione was finding more and more often of late.

She didn't approve. "What are you doing here?"

He leaned forward over the railing on his elbows, fingers clasped together and turned his head to face her. "I thought I was watching a Quidditch match. I am on our House's team you know. And I have to observe the competition when I can."

_Bullshit…_she swore in her head.

"Your friends seem to have taken another seat further down." She glanced over to the intersection between Slytherin and Gryffindor. Death Eaters seemed to thrive on the promise of confrontation in Hermione's opinion. And she could see many of the Marauder's housemates shifting uncomfortably in their seats beside them.

Oddly enough, Hermione noticed Severus Snape and Lily Evans were standing just the junction of the blurring lines, her hands wrapped round his fist. Hermione blinked to be certain she wasn't imagining how much more relaxed Snape looked in that moment.

Her eyes chose then of all times to find a furious silver pair of orbs, framed with features more obviously handsome than his brothers. Sirius was making deals and slight of hands with other people's money. Yet his attention was fixed firmly on her, more importantly the git beside her.

"I can talk to them anytime I want," Regulus was saying. "But I rarely see you anymore outside of class though Hermione. Why don't you study in the common room like you used to?" Smugly he glanced Sirius' way but paid his brother no more attention.

"I thought you were here to watch a game, not talk to me. I thought I made it clear I didn't need your _friendship,_ or your protection."

And then, in that suddenly serious mysterious way of his, Regulus' brow darkened. The back of his fingers brushing against her bare forearm as he said, "You have been growing careless, spending too much time with those Gryffindorks and the others are beginning to take notice. Despite your Uncle's name, there are those among us who would do anything to rid the world of the traitors you associate with. You may deny my friendship Miss Dumbledore. But we both know you _need_ my protection."

Their eyes met and Hermione felt the same conflict of emotion stir in her gut. Why must he insist on pulling and pushing her every time they met? There were times at the start of term she had considered trusting him! But he had a reputation that rivaled his brothers, far more discreet but impressive for a Fifth Year. It did not help that he already looked older than Sirius, complete with his firmly square chin. An early bloomer in most aspects, it was the lines about his eyes and face, the strained drawn look he masked with charisma that aged him.

His eyes continued to graze hers, always guarded, fingers disappearing into his cloak before she could protest their pressure. The roar of the crowd turned her attention from his presence.

The four balls had been released and the teams flew around the pitch, taking their positions as the snitch and bludger darted about the arena. A familiar burning sensation prickled at the back of her neck and sang in her blood and she knew even though she hadn't seen James he had found her.

Hermione watched the snitch soar into the clouds and when she looked down once again the quaffle had been tossed and the game begun.

James was at the center of the mad fray as mist coated them. His body made an effortless line with his Nimbus. It was no surprise he had already scored ten points with the quaffle, but it was a surprise to see how effortlessly he did it _again_ and _again_ and _again_.

Fierce concentration and power were behind his every twist and turn. Yet he still laughed each time Selwyn gestured back at him.

Her heart pounded in her chest as the match wore on. The snitch had not been caught yet. But Gryffindor was nearly on their way to winning without needing the snitch either way.

Only once did she dare a glare at Sirius who was grinning wildly and calling out shouts while he gathered more and more money from angry gamblers. Because at that moment Ravenclaw caught the snitch, and the crowd held their breath. James Potter was still laughing in the pitch, avoiding the bludger that kept aiming straight for him.

_I swear he has eyes on the back of his head_…

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted Scamander from his stand.

_Sirius had better make good on his vow_.

He would or everyone would learn how a Black looked bald. Hermione allowed one very Slytherin-_ish_ smirk grasp her lips. She barely registered the curses and groans of every one of her House Mates. Most of them, she noticed, had already left along with a good portion of sour faced Ravenclaws.

Wilkes was yelling, "Aw fuck! Come on what the hell was that?"

"Curb your barbarity Wilkes," Desdemona seethed.

Pervincia pouted while entangling herself in Wilkes' arm. "Oh how they can live with the shame is beyond me! All thanks to James _bloody_ Potter!" Yet when her eyes met Hermione's she winked yet again.

Hermione wanted very much to throw her into the pitch. She could only pray Regul-_Black_ had not noticed. Yet when she turned to find out he was already gone.

The field was covered in a sea of gold and reds. James and his Nimbus were hoisted above their heads along with the rest of the Gryffindor team. Somehow Sirius ended up on shoulders beside James as well and Hermione had to shake her head and smile at the sight. Pete jumped up into Remus' arms and the taller Marauder punched the smaller one senseless for daring.

While watching the party that was already beginning and likely to last the rest of the evening, she felt another cold wind gust. Shivering against the cold she fought the chill of unexpected loneliness.

_Follow your heart…_Dorea had said.

Hermione watched the boy who had saved her life only a month ago laughing and now searching wildly in the sea of faces for _something_.

_Someone._

Breath hitched in her throat as she tightened her grip against the railing. His search ended the moment his eyes found her alone in the stands and slowly, both their smiles began to fade. As Gryffindor carried their Captain away from the pitch, he disappeared into their sea of chants and song.

Hermione shook her head. _So much for clarity._ She had been hoping to see something, to be reassured she hadn't stepped too far. Even though a part of herself was beginning to admit that she wanted to kiss him, not just because Sirius conned her into it.

Her past had not become any less dim since her arrival at Hogwarts. And Uncle Albus was unsuccessful in all his attempts to break into her mind piece by piece. More than once they had ended on the floor in pain. Once the barrier round her mind fought back enough to send the aged Wizard across the room into a bookshelf.

That unknown frightening blood stained past was tucked safely away. She was free to follow his advice and find happiness in the here and now. She studied hard to become the best student possible, even though the material bored her. Slytherin tried many times to induct her into its darkest circles. Lefay and Macbeth helped her keep her sanity and find some amusement at their housemates expense. Letters from Dorea and occasionally Charlus lightened her load. Meetings with Albus softened the hard edges of her structured mask. Yet it was her time with the Marauders when she laughed and genuinely smiled.

Although she didn't want to admit it, every part of who she was now was connected in some way to James. Being with him was what made her happiest of all.

"But what does that mean?" she whispered aloud, turning to face the bite of the northern. The sun was setting after the long and relatively short match.

Lefay knew Hermione well enough now to know she needed some time alone. Her excuse during breakfast was that she had _loads_ of studying to devote her afternoon to. Everyone in Slytherin was well acquainted with how seriously Hermione took her studies by now. Little did they know the text in books still made her head swim with never ending photographic clarity.

The sun was setting with a brilliant burst of color, stealing her breath away. The rose hue burn deeper before shading a softer pink and rusty violet. Yet it was the colors most people had never seen before that stole her breath. Showers of golden sparks and half blues and greens, shades of a spectrum she was not familiar with, exploded with the descent of the sun. As if seeing all the hidden hues black overshadowed and white overwhelmed at once.

Mist made her find use of her head and pull away from the out of doors, accompanied by a grumbling stomach in need of feeding. She rushed down towards the dining hall. Loud music and cheers erupted in the direction of Gryffindor tower and she shook her head at their stupidity.

_Ever heard of a simple silencing charm?_

She was tempted to pass by to cast it herself but did not want the risk of running into _him _right now. Hermione did well enough to collect her thoughts on a consistent basis without these new recent revelations. Besides, she was going to be starving before too long and hadn't eaten since breakfast. She forced herself to walk because a Slytherin Pureblooded Lady never ran. Casting a drying charm over her hair, along with another borrowed from Dorea to tame it into softer ringlets, she started to feel normal again.

It was as she passed by a lumpy tapestry of what looked to be two of the founders in the midst of some historical battle that the hall cleared empty. Her eyes followed it as she past and Hermione gasped as she collided into something high broad and hard and was swept off of her feet and twirled many times in the air.

"Hermione! I've been looking everywhere for you!" James' face was suddenly level with hers, grin perfect and brilliant as ever, eyes alight with testosterone, ego and nothing less than could be called _passion_. Added to this disconcerting observation, he had yet to set her down again. One hand clutched her bum to keep her weight even and the other round her back as he brought them to a halt.

His excitement was contagious and she grinned. "You did it! I knew you would do it!" It only seemed natural to wrap her arms around his neck. They were friends after all, safely in the role she had given her savior.

"Only because of you!" He looked at her in wonder.

Her hand came to caress his dirty cheek. "You haven't showered yet have you?"

His grin widened. "Trying to tell me I smell?" At her scrunched nose he laughed. "I haven't had time. They were trying to pour Firewhiskey down my throat the moment we came in and it was everything I could do to get away from Padfoot."

"I don't want you to miss your party."

He shook his head, grin softening, but the light in his eyes burning brighter. And with her new eyes Hermione saw depths of color in his, she had never known before. "I had to come find you first. I'm not drinking one lick of that rubbish unless you're right next to me."

"I can't go in _that_ common room James!" She gasped at the traitorous thought.

Brow raised, he laughed at the challenge. "Anyone has anything to say about it they can go to hell! It's our party Mione and I'm making sure everyone knows it."

She laughed because his laughter was contagious, much as the joy that always seemed to hover round him like an unstoppable juggernaut. When her fingers ran through her hair his gaze darkened considerably. What had been light hazel eyes turned into something dark as the Forbidden Forest and bright as burnished silver.

She breathed, "You're the reason they won the match. They won't want a Snake with them."

"_I _want you damn it!"

She had seen how quickly his temper could flare, should have seen it coming, but was unprepared for his reaction. Because his arms tightened suddenly, fingers digging into her backside, pressing her roughly to the tapestry covered wall, body keeping hers in place so his free hand could roam. It dug into her cloak and smoothed over her hip, up to lightly graze her breast. She gasped at the contact, instinctively pressed her hips against his, dug her fingers into his shoulders, shut her eyes to find control of her senses.

"Look at _me,_" He commanded, voice rough and tender at once. And as she did, she saw his intent too late. He didn't attack her lips like she expected he might. He wasn't slow and hesitant as she was either. Instead they ghosted over the skin of her cheek, seemed to breathe her in, steal her breath as he explored her mouth.

She moaned at the aching pleasure that began in her core and spread through every nerve of her body. All thought faded the moment he smiled and trembled with barely restrained will. James gasped when she thrust herself into the kiss. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she dug her fingers into his black hair.

She couldn't have explained this _need_ to be close to him, to savor every touch like it were their last. She didn't know why she instinctively threw all caution and fears to the wind and told her inner Hermione to _shove it_. Because she knew without a shadow of doubt, with what she dared to hope to own, she wanted him.

His tongue grazed her lips, plunged in to stroke each crevice of her mouth. She opened quickly to him, sighed at the rush of _feeling_ she had never known the strength of before.

_This is what we live and die for_…she absently wondered.

* * *

James' free hand reached up to tangle into her hair and pull her in closer. When she thrust her hips against his a strangled groan escaped from the back of his throat and the southward rush of blood began to rise in evident ways. James was secretly terrified he didn't deserve this. That she had every right to run away because he was taking advantage of her. But oh gods he wanted this, had wanted this long before he met her.

She was silk and fire and warmth that was snaking against him and doing terribly wonderful things to his body. His heart pounded in his chest and soared in a way only _she_ did better than flying.

He hadn't planned on kissing her. Not that he could think about anything else _but _her lips even during the game. And when the map showed him where to find her, he had to use his cloak to sneak out and find her.

He _had _to see her. Watching Reggie Black and all those other Snakes crushing her between them, seeing the way she watched him made something snap inside of him. It had been far worse than the moment he saw Lily holding Snape's hand tightly in her own and realized exactly what it meant.

Without thinking of the consequences, whether or not she intended her kiss to be for luck or not, he knew he wanted her in his arms the moment he found her in the halls. Once she was in his arms all the rush of post game adrenaline and simply the way he was with her took over. He didn't fight it this time.

_Damn it all to hell if she tries._

He'd had enough of pretending and wasting time. Remus was right. His Mum was right in her letters. The Daily Prophet reminded him every morning that one day her past would catch up to them and on that day he could lose her.

He _did _want her. He hadn't known how much until she kissed him last night and stole the last reserve he'd built trying to protect her.

And so James Potter let himself _feel._He crushed her between the wall and him, anything to bring her closer. If this was the last time that he kissed her he wanted it to count, to brand this into both their memories as something neither of them could ever forget. And he whispered a prayer each time his lips drew hers between his, every time he caressed the nape of her neck and answered her soft sounds with everything left in his sore muscles. He prayed that she could be _his_ and he would belong only ever to her. He would die to himself if it meant he could keep the war away from her and keep her past from haunting her anymore.

James was no fool. He knew when that torturous withdrawn look reclaimed her and what it meant. It appeared whenever she was the most happy, like a thief for her joy. And it always left James with the unparalleled urge to kill the thing responsible for that look.

He knew that giving into Hermione also meant giving in to a darker side of himself, one that he kept buried from everyone except for Moony. To protect her from the darkness that clung to her even now, James had to bleed into the gray in between and anchor himself to her.

Of course he didn't think about any of these things until later. Not when her legs were so tightly wrapped around his torso and her tongue teasing his.

_Oh Godric I think I'm gonna lose it if she doesn't stop doing that…_

He pulled away and they both gasped, staring at one another with opposite reactions. His jaw was ready to fall off with this much smiling.

She looked scared shitless with her golden eyes dark as pitch, lips red and tears on her cheeks.

He wanted to say something clever, something romantic, something brilliant and witty, something to win her over. James knew that the best snog of his life and a painful hard on didn't come close to meaning he'd won her.

They had the Gala event to deal with the first of the month, an event they were only going to as friends. And if the rest of the school found out there would be hell to pay, at least for Hermione. She didn't know it yet, but her House was just as awful to have on your bad side as his.

If anything he had just made things a lot harder on her. Yet he ignored the bulge in his pants and the unanswered need that only her lips and her touch would satisfy. He made himself stop not because he could, but because he _had _to.

_For her…_

They shared the same space of breath in a silence that was too fragile and too deep for words. His thumb wiped the tears from her cheeks in a caress and a wild thought jumped into his mind. "Come with me," he said.

* * *

Wind swept through her bound hair, desperately trying to tug it free from its constraints. The stars burned so much brighter here, like shards of tiny glass pieced on a velvet cloak. In she and James' astronomy class, they had discussed how some believed the stars could actually _sing_ to the watcher, not just foretell the future.

She clung to James' broad chest, finding comfort round his narrow waist and willingly pressed herself tightly against it. She savored in each twist and dip he took them, every time they slowed to hug the world above the thin clouds. In all their short time together, she had never felt him use the sort of confidence and strength he now wielded.

The north winds peeked through her clothes till her only source of warmth was in the boy in front of her.

When they sat at last on top of the world, above the Forbidden Forest, overlooking the lamplit castle and the stars mirrored on the Black Lake she clung even tighter and tried not to think how high they were. Shakily, she asked, "Is this what you wanted to show me?" She couldn't help but smile when one hand moved to cover both of hers and he twisted his head to tempt her with a cocky grin.

"This is part of it, love." And after a brief silence where she let her cheek rest against his shoulder blade and felt happier than she feared she ever would again, he said, "Mione…I've never had a way with words like Sirius…"

"But you do!" she insisted, indignant that he could compare himself.

James grinned, never tearing his gaze from their small corner of the world. "Maybe some, but I'm talking about girls, not just charm." He shook his head. His hand pressed her arms closer to his stomach and he sighed when she squeezed tighter. Neither of them had given the other permission for this or felt the need to. Maybe because they had fallen into it so naturally? Or maybe because they secretly feared talking about it would change everything.

James let out a shaky sigh. "You have no idea what you do to me, Mione…"

She smiled. "Not a way with words?"

His laugh was almost bitter and frustrated, "Will you quit interrupting me so I can get through this? It's hard enough to think with you this close you know."

She nodded and bit her lip to contain the laughter bubbling up in her throat.

"Good," he said, though not without his own inflection of humor. "Mione I don't wanna screw this up…I know in the beginning I was only claiming you to protect you but I'm not so brilliant as I seem. The only things I've ever been good at are flying and…and…" He stumbled when she slid her palms further up his chest, fought for control. "_Sweet Slytherin_ will you stop doing that?"

"Doing what?" she teased, wondering innately where this confident and bold Hermione had come from. But she was having too much fun to rein her in.

"You _know_ what!" he cried and twisted round to narrow his eyes at her, barely masking the lust behind it, his laughter, his joy. "If you don't quit I won't show you the surprise and we can both just sit up here till we freeze."

In her iciest tone, she hissed, "You wouldn't dare…"

James Potter loved a challenge. He loved even more when she was the one giving it. "Never threaten when you have nothing Dumbledore."

Holding her lower lip between her teeth she slid her hands once again, lower than the good girl in her would have dared. Once again something had taken hold of Hermione, just like the moment he grabbed her in the castle. And some sense of urgency warned her not to fight it anymore or she would regret letting him go.

Sitting up a little further on his broom, using his chest to steady herself she slipped up against his neck and pressed her lips to the skin just behind his ear. "Don't be so sure I don't."

He visibly shuddered at her touch, shivered when she didn't stop. "H-Hermione…" More firmly, "Mione!" His rough, sudden laughter carried her along with it. Giving in with a shake of his head, he said, "Fine you asked for it Witch!"

Her scream echoed behind their vertical plummet to the earth. If it had been anyone other than James Potter, she would say they were about to crash straight for the prickly gray of the Forbidden Forest below them. At just the last second they broke through the uppermost branches. Beneath the canopy, the trees wove between their trunks faster than should be possible.

Her scream died in her throat the moment they entered the ancient wood. Still, she held on for dear life, wondering vaguely how he seemed to know his path so well or how he managed not smashing into the dozens of shadow drenched trunks. When the stray branch of one reached just past her cheek, Hermione shut her eyes and tried not to blanch but rather savor the rush.

"You can let go of me now love," he said with a chuckled and surprised her with their sudden almost effortless stop.

Cracking open an eye, she took in the clearing he had led them to. The grass gleamed silvery indigo and waved softly against the stone circle they hovered among. Curiosity stealing the freefall shock arresting her limbs, Hermione practically rushed to scramble off of her Wizard and stumbled awkwardly on her feet. He was at her side and steadying her arm almost instantly.

She couldn't look away from the monolith circle. It was a strange, eerily silent place, rather than cursed by the howls and moans as the rest of the forest. Within the circle the stars shone brighter and the stones were cut in different shapes, some round, others square, others twisting pillars and what looked more like the ruins of something even older.

Hermione had a sense that once she had searched deeply for traces of places like this, places of ancient magic. From behind the veil of her hidden memories the words rose before her.

_The most ancient and powerful of magics was love. _

How had the first wizards used this? Did it all come down to an subconscious act of pure will? Or was it something more? Did they once have the ability to use and only in later times lost it? Something tickled at the back of her mind that she should know, that she did know about this ancient magic.

And something powerful in this place tugged at her own powerful, cursed magic. The wand in its holster burned against her skin, begging to be released. She shoved the urge back down with an iron will. She still hadn't gotten used to handling the thick darkened wood without leaning on her wandless magic again. With the wand, her spells came too quick, too powerfully, even after all her hours of practice.

Turning her attention to the ruin and the wizard standing so near, Hermione peered closer. Precious stones marked odd swirling patterns all over the ruin and her hand reached out to touch one.

His hand snatched hers back just in time and she sent him a silent reprimand. His hazel eyes gleamed, as though understanding her curiosity. "Look, but try not to touch. Otherwise you'll get a nasty hex that won't fade for at least a week."

"What is this place?" she asked. Leaving her hand in his, she turned once more to take in the secret ruin.

He led her through the maze. "I'm not exactly sure to be honest. Obviously it's ancient, built way before the castle but I haven't found anything in the library that suggest any Wizards lived here before the Founders. My guess is they came here to protect something."

"Protect something."

His mouth tilted up into a side along grin. "Yeah. Why put such strong defensive spells over it? Nasty hex, remember? Took me weeks to get feeling back in my arm again. Almost missed the first match of the season that year…"

While he laughed over the memory, fresh thoughts began to turn her attention to the man in front of her as he wrapped his free hand round her waist. "This is your special place isn't it?"

His eyes gleamed and he nodded. "Was always breaking the rules when I was younger. I loved Hogwarts but it was a mistake for them to call this the _Forbidden _Forest. Drew me like a magnet to it. Even Sirius thought I was mental and wouldn't go near it 'cept during Kettleburn's class. Was a good thing I disobeyed the rules though so don't give me that look Miss Dumbledore! Besides, it paid off later on for other reasons…"

Here he looked away from her piercing eyes, filled with that one secret Hermione had often seen on all the boys' faces.

"I'm the only one who knows about this place. It won't let centaurs or anything else in because of some kind of magical shield. That's how I figured Wizards built it. And I swear I'm not that brilliant. Took me forever to figure out what I told you. For the longest time I came here when I needed to be alone." He grimaced and Hermione wondered the immense pain behind that one look. "But I did learn a few things once I started coming here. After the first time it hexed me I found one that didn't have the same affects. Couldn't do any wand magic, just this…"

They had come to the center of the ruins, to a stone structure lovingly carved into a sweeping arch. Taking her hand in his he reaching out he placed their hands into the air between it and grinned.

She hesitated. "What are you doing?"

"Just trust me," he reassured, eyes sparkling with mischief.

Eyebrow arched, she lightly sighed and allowed him to push her hand forwards. Rather than let go of her fingers once they pushed through, however, he seemed rooted suddenly to her skin and frowned. Hermione rolled her eyes when nothing happened.

_If this is one of his tricks, I swear on Salazar's nightgown..._

The cursed Witch gasped when the walls surrounding her mind clenched and made her double over in pain. Grasping her head with her free hand, eyes screwed shut, she thrust back and nearly bumped heads with James on the way up as a whole new set of sensations overtook her.

A burst of pure _feeling _filled her soul. Their hands were held by an invisible, unyielding force, yet they shook with the effort to escape. Her eyes widened and fixed firmly onto his, filled with knowing. An equally troubled yet passionate feeling filled his hazel orbs and soon there was nothing else surrounding them. There was nothing else but _fear, anger, desire, _but _need _and a thousand other emotions that filled the gap of distance between them and drew them tightly together.

Judging by James' expression, he was just as surprised as she was. Whatever the arch had been charmed to do before, he hadn't expected this. It was only supposed to show a dark reflection of the future. He too grimaced beneath the full weight of the ancient magic roaring about them, pushing them closer together. It wasn't doing anything that either of them didn't _want_ it to do, yet it was searing them too deeply. It was daring to change things that were not meant to be so radically changed.

Hermione gasped with the effort to breathe past he weight of her own feelings, all the angst and longing and sorrow she couldn't remember feeling and foreign emotions that blended with her own. Above the resignation was an honor will bound determination that held the darkness at bay. Despair she had never known made her clutch on to James with her other hand.

His eyes were clouded with things he too had never felt before, yet he felt more than ever before he _had _to have her closer. The moment her fingers brushed the skin of his neck a burst of fresh emotion filled him and his arm wrapped around her waist, drawing her flush against him.

She trembled with the double force of his emotions when his lips brushed hers and tasted the foreign, ancient magic that swelled and burst and consumed their own. The roar that had filled their ears was instantly gone, pressure of feeling dissipated until all she heard was his heart beating wildly in his chest in time with her own.

Hermione blinked as her vision blackened and came back to life.

They had stumbled to the earth once the arch released them, upright only because James held her up in his arms. As she took a shaky breath, drank in the night air and his rich overwhelming smell, felt his magic tangling still with her own, she exhaled. "James..." She gasped and felt her tears stream down her cheeks. Whatever reserve she had felt before was brushed aside. Whatever affection she felt for the Wizard in front of her doubled into something new.

Pushing back against his chest, she tilted her head back to look into his curiously dark eyes. There was something different in them than there had been before, something she hadn't been able to see.

He breathed heavily, gruffly wondered aloud, "What the hell was that?" His need to protect overshadowed the sudden, unquenchable thirst he had for the Witch in his arms. Or maybe it was because of this need he forced his mind to focus on the larger problem.

Neither of them understood exactly what had happened and even afterwards wouldn't be able to describe just what transpired on that strange starry night.

He escorted her to her dormitory afterwards and couldn't bring himself to admit he might have done something to make her situation worse. Because though she was feeling so intensely beyond all restrictions of logic and questioning everything she knew for what he had just shown her, James Potter felt the first tremors of ancient magic now embedded in his soul. Now that the dormant was unleashed, he was struggling with more than the constant need to touch her, though he wouldn't realize it until much later.

Neither of them talked about their kiss or that night inside the ruin, when he called on the stars, after that. Like many things it remained a present phantom between them, better left unsaid.

* * *

**Review: **_Though this is much shorter than you deserve, there is a larger chunk coming. In the end, this chapter seemed like it needed to stand on its own. Thanks to everyone who has been reading and reviewing! I'm not abandoning the story, just in case anyone thinks so! Hopefully I will be able to go back to a once a week or at least every other week pace after this :)_

_For now, what is your opinion of what just happened between James and Hermione? And how do you think it will affect them in the future? Or rather the future itself lol?_


	22. II: tempting to touch

**A/N: **_I won't be updating quite as regularly with this for the next couple of months to focus on life and making some money lol. But am working on bits and pieces here and there. Was going to make this a jumbo chapter but chose to go ahead and give y'all a piece since you've waited so patiently :)_

* * *

**PART 2: Hogwarts**

**Chapter 22**

**Tempting to Touch**

* * *

Hermione distracted herself in the days before the first Hogsmeade weekend. Or at least attempted as best she could to ignore the fact she was slipping. What control she thought she had learned before _that_ night had simply disappeared. Something foreign had invaded her own magic. Or maybe, as she suspected, awoke from some deeply buried place, hidden so most Wizards never suffered the temptation.

In some ways, she found more control in the following days than she had known since bleeding to death on Potter grounds. She could use her wand now, bend it to her will, even see how to control the force behind it. The walls surrounding her mind no longer felt impenetrable as before. The information stored photographically inside her head only came when she wanted it to. And she wondered, if she wanted to, if she could push the veil aside and see what lay behind it.

Fear was the only thing keeping her from trying to find the answers. Trouble was, she shouldn't be able to do any of it.

Her first meeting with Uncle Albus, since before _that _night, could ruin everything if she weren't careful. He would ask questions and she might inadvertently betray what she and James had done...whatever they did.

Hermione wasn't so sure she regretted what happened. It made her feel closer to him than before, as though the ancient magic had brushed aside whatever inner voice had been screaming at her to run far away from him.

So when her tea time with Professor Dumbledore came at last, Hermione learned she could control how deeply he could penetrate her mind.

To Albus, the curse blocking her memories had strengthened, seemingly overnight. He seemed more determined than ever to seek out the truth of what happened to cause it. When he prodded her thoughts, the young Miss Dumbledore tried desperately not to remember how it felt to feel what James felt, to twine more tightly than she had never allowed herself to be twisted into anyone else.

After she had passed this first test, Hermione devoted herself to her classes and her inner House politics. Which meant spending more nights and days off with Desdemona Lefay and Pervincia Macbeth's selective crowd and fewer with the Marauders, despite their protests.

She even went to the library once or twice to research the place James had taken her, while trying not to think about him. Never mind that she got a bleeding headache every time she tried to walk through the whirlpool of knowledge. Before that night, her brain had tended to fire so many pictures of hidden knowledge so quickly that she barely managed to grab the book and get out. Now this was not a problem. But Hermione knew she couldn't change her habits, including her aversion to the library, or someone would notice something was amiss.

_Think like the snake you are supposed to be, Dumbledore..._

Instead she stole away her research to sit in her usual spot beside the Black Lake.

A few times she ran into the First Year she had met in Diagon Alley and saved numerous times since. Apparently Purebloods and most Half Bloods weren't too fond of the Muggleborns. Leah Wentworth stuck out like a sore thumb with her Muggle clothes and sayings. Even though she was in Gryffindor, Hermione caught more than a few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs trying to put the First Year in her place.

It was no surprise Leah loved escaping to the solitude of the Black Lake with her small band of Gryffindorks. She enthusiastically told Hermione how her classes were, how much she missed her parents, how lucky she was to have found friends so quickly…

Hermione ignored the looks her housemates gave her after each lakeside chat. She could never tell who spread the rumor, as none of her housemates were seen this far down the lake. She nearly cursed Pervincia one day for daring to comment to her face about it.

Whenever she wasn't burying her nose in a book, Hermione played with Crookshanks, who was very unhappy she had neglected him of late. Crookshanks liked James enough to actually sit on his lap without tearing apart his pants, on the rare occasion Hermione brought him to the Head common room. After _that_ night, her orange half-kneazle had taken to scratching up the cloak she had worn the last time she flew with James.

Her heart ached and her thighs clenched with unanswered need every time she thought about James. They had not kissed since the night after his first game. And not because she didn't _want_ to kiss him, rather she reasoned things had to come in their own time. That and the fact she had overheard her housemates and roommates' talk of teaching the Marauder's their place once and for all on more than one occasion. Publicly announcing her feelings the same time as reminding them he had claimed her through the Gala season would royally piss off the male half of her house. Much as she wanted to be close to him, wanted things she didn't know how to put into words, Hermione wasn't going to make his year any more difficult than it was.

The other reason Hermione kept her distance from her favorite Marauder was the same reason she went to the library to avoid thinking of had a problem. The arch in the Forbidden Forest caused a magical reaction, establishing a connection betwixt them that neither of them understood. Hermione was not content to not know why, coupled with their mutual attraction, she also felt a physical burn when he was near. Until she discovered the answers she had no desire to answer the unspoken call in her blood for his nearness. Yet resisting would take its toll in dangerous ways.

On the surface everything continued as it had before. During meals, James would watch her and smile occasionally to himself. It was disconcerting because she had the inkling he was planning something.

When they sat together in class he never missed a chance to touch her in little ways from tracing her hand beneath the table, to sitting close enough they pressed together in obvious ways. He tucked her hair behind her ear. He leaned in as though to tell her something secret only to breathe her in or to lightly kiss the skin of her neck. His touch made her want him more and more each day. It made her want to throw caution to the wind grab for the happiness he offered. But she wouldn't forget the promise she made to Dorea and to herself.

_Protect him._

The enchanted parchment he made for her continued to be filled with jokes and drawings poking fun at teachers or classmates. To her relief, no romantic overtures were made, nothing on the surface that betrayed they had crossed the line of friendship.

Occasionally he even asked her to meet him in their usual places.

Once, the night before, she met him in front of the kitchens. After he tickled the pear, they came into a kitchen bustling with cheery house elves. Something felt different about this meeting than the others they'd shared before. Before there was always a Marauder lurking around the corner to keep watch, a prank they unwittingly pulled her into, a new mystery he discovered and needed to show her.

This night in the kitchens was different. The house elves mysteriously disappeared from the sweet smelling rooms. The air pulsed oddly to the beat of their hearts and a growing silence. The ancient magic that had been set loose inside of them grasped at the air between them, desperate to grab hold. As the unseen struggle continued, Hermione and James took to openly staring at one another between spoon fulls of the frozen sweets.

After sharing a bowl of iced cream together, she'd surprised herself by kissing his chin to catch the stray sweetness. The press of lips on skin shook them both to the core and left her breathless. His answering grin and cocky, puffed out chest, ruined the moment just as he leaned in for a better taste of her lips. She slapped his arm before darting away with a parting, "Git!"

* * *

The Marauders were suspicious. Sirius in particular made it his personal mission to stalk her in the hallways and snatch her for questioning when she least expected it. Though she didn't know it, Sirius used the Marauder's Map to make the run-ins more casual. Save the time he interrupted his own snogging session with Antigone Binns to ask why she was avoiding them.

"Hermione this is getting ridiculous!"

The elder Black brother, arguably the more annoying of the two, grabbed her by the arm as she was on her way to Charms and not physically or mentally ready to deal with the Marauders _and_ Lily Evans today. Never mind that the red headed Head Girl had taken to giving her oddly sympathetic smiles now and then, instead of veiled threats…and there was something odd going on between she and Snape…

She tried to pull out of his embrace and groaned, "Honestly Sirius, you cannot continue assaulting me in the halls every time you need a new thrill." Her words were snarky and Snake enough that she hoped he would let her go with his usual disgusted expression.

Instead, perhaps because he was a Black, his perfectly sculpted black brows arched and a knowing grin claimed his face as he placed his hands right back on her shoulders. "Mione, love, no need to play the tease with me. Any time you say the word, I shove Prongsie off the Astronomy Tower just for you."

By the wag of his brows, Hermione knew he was joking but the words grated and tore open something deep inside of her. Because the thought of James pushed off a tower, pushed into _any_ danger, bled her internally. With more force and an extra push of wandless magic, she moved past him and trembled as the ancient magic pooled into her veins, tempted her to draw deeper… "That's not funny Sirius! And I don't see my spending time with any of you having to do solely with James."

Sirius sighed and stepped in front of her each time she tried to maneuver around him. Pressing his hands to his chest so his hair fell forward into his gray eyes, he said, "You think I'm saying this for Prongs?" He laughed aloud, a barking sarcastic thing that was slightly off his usual humor.

It made her stop long enough to narrow her eyes and size him up.

Shaking his hand of nerves he nodded with a restless energy, saying, "You think that I don't care what happens to you too? Think I can forget growing up with your housemates and know exactly what they like to do in their free time?" His voice and his temper rose and might even match hers brimming beneath the surface. "Hermione, you think I don't know better than any of them what sick game you're playing at?" He leaned in closer, eyes darting round the hall to make sure they were alone and hissed, "You're not even really one of them!"

Her voice shook as she spoke aloud her secret fear, "How do you know that?" In that moment his silvery eyes gleamed beneath a sliver of sunlight and Hermione finally saw why half the Hogwarts population was in love with him.

He pried her hands from her book bag, letting it drop from her shoulder and stepped closer. She had the brief thought that she didn't have to crane her neck quite as far back to meet his gaze.

"Hermione, I knew the first moment I saw you."

She frowned when his fingers hesitated before pushing a stray curl behind her ear.

He exhaled heavily and added, "My family's calling card practically screamed off of you. I know they were the ones who cursed you and anyone against them is on our side."

His eyes met hers full force again and she caught just a glimpse, a reflection of someone she had known before, someone with the same abstract pain in his eyes… The flurry of emotions that memory carried with it made her tantrum dissipate an crumble to dust.

"It's not your fault Sirius," she said, placing her hand onto his chest for emphasis and was surprised when he covered it quickly with his own, when his eyes burned.

"Mione…don't let them drag you in any deeper. Draw too much attention and you'll get more than you bargained for. You know those Snakes are only in it for your ass and your Uncle's galleons." At her open mouthed protest his countenance transformed and the teenaged tosser was back in place. "Can't say I blame them for wanting the former…"

All her compassion was forgotten. He received the end of some particularly nasty wandless magic for that comment.

* * *

From a distance, Hermione watched James plant his fist in his best mate's eye just before dinner that same evening. His eyes found her briefly after, across the dining hall and the look in his eyes made her shiver before she forced her gaze away.

He stormed out of the Hall while Sirius tried to laugh it off with the Pete.

Hermione didn't look up again.

* * *

The Slytherins were relieved. At last, Hermione Dumbledore was seeing the error of her ways and turning her attention to far more worthy Wizards. The only Snake who watched her with suspiciously wounded eyes was Regulus Black. Yet ever since Gryffindor's first Quidditch match, he hardly spoke to her during Potions or in the Common Room.

She couldn't explain why this made her feel put out. Altogether, Hermione Dumbledore decided she didn't feel like herself anymore..._that I can remember_…so knew she was striking into unfamiliar territory.

* * *

Desdemona had taken to smiling more and more around her bushy haired friend. Especially after Hermione finally agreed to allow her to "do her over" before they all left for Hogsmeade.

She stared at her face in the mirror, uncertain whether it could be her or not. The Hermione in the mirror looked just as shocked by the transformation. Eye liner brought her amber honey eyes to a bolder light. They were framed by her thick curling lashes, charmed with a mascara that promised to stick.

Mona lamented over Hermione's flawless olive complexion and left the rest of her face free of makeup.

_Thank Godric…_

And was now pulling and primping her hair. "Ouch!" Hermione winced. "Tell me why I agreed to this again?"

Mona smiled wickedly at her in the mirror, silvery eyes flashing on her already painted face. "Stop fidgeting and we might get this done before the carriages leave."

Allowing a pout to push her bottom lip forward, she glared at the new Hermione glaring just as harshly back at her in the mirror. Her frown deepened as she thought back to the note James left on her charmed parchment earlier that morning,

…

**Mione,**

**Don't frown so much love or the lines will stick! Besides, you know you love the nickname secretly.**

**I have only one piece of instruction for you today.**

**Meet me in front of the Great Hall ten minutes before we go to Hogsmeade.**

**I'm sure you already know you're going to spend the day with me. To hell with all the Snakes and whichever bastard is responsible for you staying away from me. Don't think I don't know why.**

**Why wouldn't you want to? I'm way sexier than the rest of your housemates after all.**

**If you refuse to meet me at the appointed time there will be dire consequences!**

**Just joking! Well maybe not. Just meet me okay?**

**Please**

**P**

…

The note was in her robe pocket now. She'd taken to carrying it everywhere of late, just in case someone found it and her secret was discovered. Or because secretly, she never wanted to miss the moment the ink faded and was replaced with something new.

Ever since he punched Sirius Black in the face, people had been whispering about how James Potter was different. There was more to the arrogant Quidditch obsessed Gryffindork about him now. Something had snapped inside of Hogwarts' Golden Boy, revealing the shadows hidden within him.

Only Hermione knew the real reason.

The Marauders were suspicious and tread a bit more carefully around him.

Even she could see the tension in his step across the classroom. He had taken to writing her notes filled with hints of his frustration. She wasn't totally oblivious to his struggle. She felt it too, the magic pulling and needing to be connected to its other half…

With Mona brushing and pulling and twirling her wand over her head, the note burned through her pocket. It reminded her that she was acting, two faced as a Death Eater.

_Two faced, that's what you've come down to Hermione…_

"Are you nervous about something?" Desdemona pulled the last of Hermione's unruly bushy locks into a tamed ringlet curl and surveyed her handiwork.

Keeping her emotions locked far away, she lifted a single eyebrow and met her friends' eye. "Nervous about what Wilkes will say about your wandwork?" Slipping the slightest smile into her words, she prayed it would be enough to hide the truth from Mona's shrewd observance.

Lefay smiled brightly and stepped back, choosing to ignore her last comment and pass one last critical eye over her handiwork. "You look good. Now let's see if Potter's face turns red as Evans' hair."

Hermione's eyes widened the slightest fraction. "I don't see how he has anything to do with this."

"Hermione…" she deadpanned, the smile on her face reprimanding. "You're a good actress, far better than Pervincia is around Wilkes. And if I were anyone else you might be able to get away with the bullshit." Her smile reached her eyes when Hermione flinched and turned away. "Don't worry. You know I'm not like all the other bints in this school. I won't betray your secrets as long as you return the favor one day…" Though like any Slytherin, Mona had no intention of giving away how Hermione was supposed to repay her. Slipping on her expensive gloves, she added, "Anyone with eyes can see that something happened between you and James Potter. I've never seen him play Quidditch the way he did that match against Ravenclaw, which is a great concession on my part."

Hermione sighed. "You know James only claimed me to protect me from any unwanted attentions while we're at school."

Mona's smile was devilish as she replied, "Yes and I can see he has done _well_ to protect his own interests. A word of caution?" Here her icy yet lovely features turned frigid. "Don't make it widely known you associate with those Marauders. They aren't as popular as they like to believe. Too much in the habit of making enemies, unfortunately..."

"I don't—"

"You've grown careless lately, Hermione, openly associating with Mudbloods. And from what my father has written me, Charlus Potter has been stirring things up in the Ministry."

"What are you saying?" Hermione bluntly asked.

Desdemona's eyes narrowed as she calmly replied, "Lord Potter has raised much support against the supremacists trying to pass all these ancient laws again, laws that are not in favor of your Mudblood friends."

After a silence, during which Lefay snatched her satchel from the end of her immaculate bed, she added, "All I'm saying is you'll have to do better than that if you want to protect your friends and yourself from his notice."

Both of them knew instinctively who he was. The Dark Lord was a topic Slytherins knew better than to openly discuss, far better than the rest of their classmates.

So lost was Hermione in her surprise that she didn't see the brief sorrow mirror in Mona's pale eyes.

The door clicked softly shut.

* * *

She had made it up from the dungeons and almost to the main hall, saying a brief hello to the friendlier portraits she passed, when she was grasped and shoved roughly behind the folds of a nearby tapestry.

Had she not recognized him at first touch, Hermione might have hexed him senseless in the shadows of his hiding place. Invisibility cloak thrown aside, she met the insufferable grin of James M. Potter several inches above her line of sight and forgot how to speak.

"Git!" She slapped him hard in the chest and tried to ignore the fact she was screaming inside to be closer to him. It scared the hell out of her.

His grin widened as he took hold of her hand in his, traced lazy patterns along her pulse. "Easy love, I just couldn't wait for you any longer."

"So you thought you would give me a heart attack instead? You can't just grab people like that James!" Wringing her hand from his grip, she placed them on her hips and glared up at him.

"But I don't do it to anyone else love."

She knew she was in trouble by the familiar glint that claimed his eyes, just barely a warning.

He took a step closer then until their legs brushed against one another and his hands slid round her waist. "Just you," he said breathlessly, eyes gleaming in the nearby sunlight.

Her skin was on fire beneath her dress. She couldn't breathe and couldn't calm the pounding of her heart. Her magic seared through her skin and collided with his and the force of it made her gasp for fresh air. Instead she only breathed in his air.

_This can't keep happening Hermione…remember what Mona said._

If only her body would obey her. His hands traced her back through the robe and sundress, drifted round to her hips and lower. Each time he dared lower, still she found their hips pressing tighter together. She grasped his shoulders for support and whimpered, "James? We really should…"

Moving one hand to press his fingers to her lips she caught the desire in his eyes too late. They darkened to something hotter than forged gold and deeper than the darkest forest and kindled into a force she felt down to her bones. She should have pulled away, should have stopped him.

But they had barely touched for days.

His lips were moving against her frozen ones.

_What are you doing Hermione?_

She began to panic, mind still fresh with everything Lefay had said. Was James really in trouble? And if so was she endangering them, giving in like this?

_Shut up Hermione…_

And like magic, she forgot all the logical arguments floating around her mind. She wanted to forget it, _would_ forget it, damn it! She was going to be happy! The only times she'd found true happiness since she woke from the parting curse of her old life, were in the arms of this boy.

So she threw her arms around his neck, to his pleasant surprise.

Where before she had refused to respond to his kisses, now awake, she took just as hungrily. She'd missed this, missed the too few moments their bodies fit together and how each simple touch was so intense it made them grasp just as desperately for the next.

His arms lifted her higher and once more her legs wrapped easily around his waist.

She did not allow his tongue entrance this time, instead felt bold enough to savor his chin, his rough jaw and the skin just over his ear and smiled when he groaned almost painfully in response.

"Hermione…" he gasped when she rocked her hips against his.

She could feel the evidence of just how much he had wanted her this week.

His arms wound tighter round her slim little body and he fought for the control he was already losing just being able to touch her again like this.

"Hermione…" He tried again when she kissed her way back up to his mouth, continuing that wonderful damning dance against the bulge forming in his tightening pants.

The ancient magic rippled between them. They gasped in unison and shivered as the high simmered. Once again they had fallen into something beyond either of them, senselessly, completely, madly, and in that moment could have cared less for the consequences. Only when he pulled her gently away, trying to control his labored breathing did she smile.

"Much as I would love to keep doing this," he breathed, "we won't make it to Hogsmeade and I _am_ Head Boy still."

"So you should set a better example Mr. Potter." Her eyes danced with the slow tilt of her mouth.

His joy burst through his wide disbelieving grin, through the gleam in his hazel eyes. "Merlin's beard you have no idea how much or how long I've wanted to do this again. I think Remus was about to load me up with _Amorentia,_ just so I'd stop being such an ass. Don't know what's got into me lately." He grinned and pressed his lips to hers again, dragged his teeth just slightly over her lower lip before tasting again.

The need began to grow between them, tighter and fiercer than before. Biting his lower lip, she whispered, "I've missed you."

They would have been in danger again and if it weren't for an annoyingly persistent hiss emitting from James' robe pocket, things would have taken a dramatic turn.

"Prongs!"

"Sirius?" Hermione gasped and started to pull away. She stilled the rhythm of her hips against his, even though the pressure each subtle movement gave them both relieved and added to their passion.

James growled, "_Fuck him,_" and plunged his tongue in to dance with hers.

She moaned, surprised by his harsh words and his rough actions.

"Prongs I heard that!" Sirius grumbled, "Get your girly arse down here! Filch is going to be out for blood soon!"

"I'm gonna kill him." James groaned when Hermione pulled away again, panting this time for air and feeling embarrassed and sorry for the evident hard on pressing against her inner thigh. With slightly unsteady hands he set Hermione down to her feet, keeping her pressed tightly against his chest, before snatching the two-way mirror from his pocket. Setting a murderous glare at his best mate, he said, "I'm gonna hex your arse to your bloody stomach if you don't shut it!"

Sirius merely grinned and winked before his face disappeared. Pocketing his mirror James turned back to Hermione with a frustrated grin and locked their fingers together.

"Good example, remember, Head Boy?" she offered.

He rolled his eyes and said, "You sound an awful lot like Moony sometimes, love." Huffing a sigh, he shut his eyes and tried desperately to think of the worst most terrifyingly disgusting images he could to calm himself down.

Hermione laughed as they ran, hands connected down to the high castle doors, where the rest of their classmates were already assembled. She managed to pull her fingers from his the moment the first pair of eyes turned to them.

Filch grumbled, stroking the back of Mrs. Norris all the while, and said, "Finally decided to grace us with yer presence, eh Potter? Was so hoping you wouldn't make it."

McGonagall was at the head of the line, ushering the rest of the students into their carriages and turned quickly to meet both their eyes.

_Oh Merlin I hope I don't look thoroughly snogged! _she thought.

Hermione cringed when her favorite professor's sharp eye took in her overall appearance. To her surprise she could have sworn she saw the ghost of a smile on her face, instead of a grimace.

James approached McGonagall with ease and a quick albeit frustrated grin. "Oi Minny! Sorry we're a bit late! Had to escort Miss Dumbledore safely out of the dungeons you know. Can be a terribly tricky endeavor you know, escaping the _dungeons_."

Minerva McGonagall shook her head and led them both towards the carriages, saying, "I take it you did not lose your way Mr. Potter?" Pointing to the end of the line, she added, "I believe you will find one last empty carriage where you may both continue your _discussion_."

Hermione stared back in wonder while James laughed and kissed the back of the Deputy Headmistress' hand to her consternation. They rushed to their carriage and indeed found it was blessedly empty.


	23. II: calm before the dark

**PART 2: Hogwarts**

* * *

**Chapter 23**

**Calm Before the Dark**

* * *

The carriage rolled across a landscape already marked for an early winter. Snows came early this far in the north, though the weight of their ivory blanket had yet to cover the dreary fall. Inside the carriage, Hermione found herself quite unable to focus on the surrounding countryside. She had seen it enough from on top of the world, pressed against the boy now doing maddening things to the skin of her neck.

He breathed her in, drank of her scent and her touch, her everything with each press of his lips. He _wanted _her. Never in her life, was she certain, had anyone ever wanted her this much. It wasn't just about sex and lust and love either. The kind of _want _James Potter held over her was something deeper.

Before he spirited her away to the Forbidden Forest and led them to something she knew he was just as baffled with, this need to be near him had always been present. Logic would assert itself normally about this time in Hermione's mind, would say she had imprinted to him, the first face she saw since waking up a bloody mess in his backyard. Though those first moments were too painful to be clear, she would never forget the boy on his broom diving on air and defying winds to get to her. Ever since he found her, James had cared and cherished her, for reasons he had yet to explain to her.

Somehow, she had always known the affect she had on him, had feared it for some unreasonable reason locked away in her mind. From that first morning she woke hearing his voice, seeing his face, she felt the pull of something dormant inside her that came alive every time they touched.

His hand reached through her outer robe, to the silky fabric of her silver dress and gripped the lean curve of her hip, drew her closer until her leg was draped over his and his lips made her see stars.

_I should buy McGonagall a box of sweets for this! _she thought.

She giggled and James pulled away, his glasses a mess on his face until she set them to rights. He refused to let her move any further away from him, so she sat half in his lap and relished being _close_.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head as his eyes brightened behind his spectacles, brilliant amber and emerald shades dancing in their depths. She leaned back into her seat with a laugh, "Everything…the fact your House Head just did something to help a _Slytherin_. Or that we have the perfect cover story because of that stupid Gala."

"Brilliant, isn't it?" His grin split his face in two, even though he was only half listening to her by now. His hands had taken to roaming all the places he had dreamed of touching _endlessly_ the last month. Yet he still hesitated to cross obvious lines. He was still a gentleman after all. There would be time for that later. As an afterthought, he murmured before capturing her lips, "Must thank Mum and Dad for that…"

She sighed into his mouth, tasted his waiting tongue with her own and never worried over the fact they may be going too fast. That thought belonged to the _old_ Hermione, the boring one who never took risks and kept her nose in a book.

_He _brought this out of her, this reckless, dangerous Witch. Well, that and an unhealthy does of innate ancient magic that tended to heighten every one of their moods.

"_Wait…_" She gasped the moment her pleasure threatened to spiral out of control and make her do maddening things. She pushed against his shoulders even though her body screamed at her for doing anything than pressing closer into him.

This time it took James a bit longer to agree with her, but he did with a slight pout and never ceased tracing her veins with his rough fingertips. His eyes touched the places his lips could not. "What is it love?" James grinned, wagged his brows suggestively at her as though telling her he knew exactly the source of her struggle.

Rolling her eyes, she said, "James this is serious and I had hoped to talk to you today, not just snog."

The corner of his mouth cracked farther and revealed his perfectly white smile. He scooted dramatically to the edge of his seat and plopped her back onto hers. At her protests he simply shrugged. "Won't be any talking unless you stay on your side and I stay on mine." The moment he heard her answering laughter his eyes darkened and his eyes fell to her lips, his jaw clenched with determination.

She felt it too. Her skin was already itching to be closer to him again. "_Sigh_…okay. First rule." She held up one finger and he grinned bemusedly back at her.

"Yes Professor," he said with a serious nod.

"Git! Be serious for once would you?" Hermione reached across the carriage to slap him on the chest, though wandless magic would have been easier it was too easy to go too far with. And this gave her another excuse to touch him.

"Sorry," he said, even though he was tempted to grab her and kiss her again, just to keep her from saying all the things he was afraid she could say. James knew it was better to let the birds call most of the shots, so _Sirius_ insisted.

Keeping a firm glare on her face, she continued, "Let's try this again. Firstly, we cannot act anything more than escorts today. So no snogging in the middle of Hogsmeade, okay?"

James whined and reached for her, already forgetting his inner check. "Not fair at all! Can't we just use a time turner and come a few hours earlier?"

Hermione swatted his hands away, giggled the moment he found a tender place on her side. "No! No, James we shouldn't meddle with time. You said…James! Stop!" She struggled to breathe between laughs, thrilled when she scrunched lower in their seat and he followed until he was leaning half on top of her.

"What's the matter Mione? Is it possible she forgot how to speak? Thank Godric!"

Hermione pounded her fists on his chest, hating and loving him both in the same moment and wondering how that was possible. "James Potter I swear if you don't stop…"

"You'll what? C'mon love, nothing I wouldn't gladly let you do to me, you know." The way he grinned knowingly at her made him look far too like Sirius for her comfort. It was obvious in moments like this who his best mate was.

She grumbled to herself even though he had stopped tickling her and was thinking of how best to take advantage of this position. Crossing her arms over her chest, she grumbled, "Hope you get this out of your system before we leave this carriage."

His hand traveled up her rib cage and paused just at the swell of her breast. "That an invitation?" His lips quivered from an effort not to laugh even while his eyes clouded with the promise of things she had secretly dreamed about, since the moment he caught her half naked in his house and broke his glasses because immediately after.

"Suppose it would be wicked of me to say no, wouldn't it? After all you have waited…" she began.

"Seven _bloody_ weeks…" he finished for her and kissed her lips.

* * *

Hogsmeade Village was wet and cold and everything Hermione might have dreamed it would be, filled with Hogwarts crests, when she'd rather it be just the two of them. Students in their heavy black cloaks were interchanged occasionally by the rare Muggleborn sporting jackets, jeans and boots. They were marked apart from their pureblooded classmates and half inclined to care. The nasty glares sent their way were filled with more than a casual threat, a sign of encroaching darker times.

Hermione's smile slipped from her face the moment she watched her House mates send several hexes and jinxes the Mudblood's ways. And her features darkened when she caught Wilkes sending a nastier spell at a familiar group of First Years. Leah laughed with her friends and pain shot through Hermione knowing what would come. She could _see _the magic coming her friend's way and lifted an ungloved hand to stop it. She felt her own magic wrap hold of the invisible spell and pull back its reins tightly, clenching her hand into a fist until his magic faded and crumbled to dust within her own.

Wilkes's eyes widened before turning mutinous around the busy streets, no doubt wondering who had noticed and could have stunted his magic.

"Easy love…thought you were the one who didn't wanna cause a scene remember?" Hermione let James wrap his arm around her as he turned them away, before her Housemate caught her furious, implicating glare and around the side of an abandoned building.

His touch was calming much as it was distracting, brought her out of the dark cloud that was her thoughts. He laughed when he realized she wasn't listening to a word he had been saying. "Well it's comforting to know some things haven't changed, love. I'm still a broomstick with no brain and you're brilliant as ever." Her skin burned where his lips grazed her forehead.

Within seconds the voices of their housemates had faded into the background and the dreary yet ethereally lovely landscape greeted them. High Street was left long behind and replaced with a winding road that led somewhere Hermione realized no one else dared tread.

"Where are we going?" She asked numbly, still thinking of the look on Wilkes's face just as he hexed Leah. James had yet to remove his arm from her shoulder and he held her close to his warmth as they climbed higher up the steady hill.

Dramatically waving his free hand, he gave his best vampire drawl, "Vere ghosts and phantoms dwell!" When her answering smile was more grimace than grin, James clapped his chest and continued his poor imitation. "She didn't laugh! If I veren't dead already my heart vould have stopped!"

Her lips twitched and just as James intended, she forgot what could have happened in Hogsmeade Village. Here, alone in the forest with him, it was easy to forget the prejudices that ruled their world.

Dropping his adopted accent, he squeezed her shoulders affectionately. "We'll meet the boys at the Broomsticks later. Told them I had to show you the one place we haven't already explored."

Mouth agape, she slapped his pectoral and rolled her eyes at his mock pain. "I can't believe you told them about that!"

"What? I didn't tell them anything! Well not really, Marauder's honor I didn't tell them about tricking time. Not even Padfoot knows Minnie loaned me her little toy. They just know we've come out here a couple times. Had to tell them something! You kept hogging all my time."

Hermione scoffed and broke from his embrace to march ahead, her cloak sweeping in dramatic folds round her small ankles. "It's not my fault you've been ignoring your friends! I gave you plenty of space."

"Space I never asked for, _Miss _Dumbledore," he called after her and took a couple long legged jogs to catch up. "You know if you'd just talked with me about what happened that night I might not have scared those Second Years the day I tried to confront you."

_Oh yeah…that day…_

She had conveniently forgotten about that day. Hermione blushed and tipped her nose to the air defiantly. "We did talk!"

"About everything but the night we snogged," he challenged, clearly enjoying this more for the stain on her golden cheeks than to resolve their unspoken issues.

Hermione wrung her robe and worried her lip as she tended to when nervous. "Well, what was I supposed to say James? Glad we snogged, skipped out of school and got a dose of ancient magic in the Forbidden Forest! I don't even know what's wrong with me!" Her fear made him dart in front of her and begin to lead, his back to the abandoned house ahead.

"Good point. You know I'm full of shite, love. And if I had any answers you know I would tell you first. But I was thinking more along the lines of snogging." He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and waited for her open mouthed surprise to turn into frustration. He wasn't disappointed.

"Git!" She shoved him and ran around him towards the Shrieking Shack. She laughed aloud when he fell, ass first in the wet earth.

James rewarded her with one of his most wonderful of laughs and raced after her. "I knew it! You want to start a war Slytherin?"

"Anytime Gryffindork!" she called over her shoulder. She shrieked when James snatched her up in his arms and despite her protests, carried her cave man style the rest of the way to the condemned house.

* * *

"All righty, boys! Be prepared to get seriously shit faced!" Sirius declared and set the four frothing mugs heavily onto the table, sloshing part of their contents in so mentioned boys' laps.

"Padfoot! What the hell, man!" Remus growled angrily, the wolf clearly unhappy.

"Oh, Alice is going to think I'm completely smashed before I can get near her!" Frank Longbottom moaned and pulled out his wand. "Oh bloody hell, I can never remember the right charms!"

Sirius grinned cheekily and sandwiched in between the two annoyed boys. "Just relax Longbottom. I happen to know your precious Alice likes em a bit unhinged." Laughing into his beer mug, he was unprepared to have the mug swiped from his hand and his chin banged to the table.

Butterbeer dripped from Frank's smirking lips and spewed with his laughter.

Sirius whirred round on Remus and punched him in the jaw. "What's got your knickers so tatty, Moony?!" Sirius knew it was a mistake to punch his werewolf of a best friend in the face. It was _always_ a mistake to punch Remus in the face. But that didn't stop him from defending himself.

_Prongs better hurry it up at the clubhouse or I'm werewolf meat! He's loads better at taming Remus!_

Remus recovered too quickly, and next thing he knew Sirius was literally thrown from their table and into the huddle of Hufflepuff beauties behind them. They screamed and Sirius laughed. Remus shook his anger off after Frank patted him soundly on the shoulder and murmured a, "Thanks mate."

Outcries, gasps and jeers followed the ruckus, but none of the boys were surprised. Everyone knew the lanky scholar could pack a mean punch, just like they knew about his temper issues. And today, his best friend Potter wasn't around to keep things in control, to the delight of all Slytherins and more than a few Ravenclaws.

Peter stood on the bench and hefted his glass in the air, spilling even more contents over the tavern. "Here's to Rosmerta, most gorgeous lovely in all of England!"

Cheers rose up from the rest of the predominantly student filled tavern. "ROSEMERTTA!"

"Pleasure boys!" The waitress, bar maid and heir to the Three Broomsticks tavern her father began, stepped away from the bar and laughing bowed low and provided a few boys more than their girlfriends wanted them to see. "Pettigrew, if you soil me favorite table you'll be wiping it clean with your tongue!" She ended with a flourish of setting the mugs to the nearest table.

Some laughed, others jeered the Marauders, yet all were happy to be out of their castle home and sharing a Butterbeer together. Here were lines normally crossed, blurred. Only here, today, would a Ravenclaw dare sit with a Gryffindor or a Hufflepuff. Slytherin rarely associated beyond their own. Today they were largely and mysteriously absent from the tavern.

Sirius paid this no mind.

Remus was laughing at a joke Longbottom was telling and Alice had just arrived with her pixie charms. He slid across from her the moment she took her place between Frank and Remus, snatched her hand from Longbottom with a wag of his brows. "Alice, love! When are you going to leave this sod and come find me?"

Alice snorted, half laugh, half revulsion, "And find myself at the bad end of every Witches wand? No thank you!" She slipped her arm through Frank's. His blush was apparent as much as it was sickeningly sweet. "I much prefer a bloke half my classmates haven't traded snogs with."

Remus chuckled darkly in silent revenge as he sipped more of Rosmerta's brew.

"You cut me to the quick, fair Alice!" Sirius glared at his friend and nudged Pete in the elbow. "Wormtail! Tell these inconsiderate fiends the truth!"

"Hm? What's that Padfoot?" Wormtail barely managed after gulping his latest mouthful too eagerly. He grimaced as it forced its way down the wrong tube.

The other half of their company burst into laughter. Remus crowed triumph. "See! Not even Wormtail can defend you today, Padfoot. You, my friend are sorely outnumbered and hung to dry if I'm not mistaken."

Sirius glowered, crossed his arms and hung his chin over them on the wet tabletop.

_Shoulda stayed with those Hufflepuffs…look isn't that Binnie Wharton? She's growing up very nicely…hmm should definitely pay better attention to Puffs from now on._

Pete munched on his lunch, once he finished mooning after a sample of Rosmerta's perky cleavage. "So Alice, where's Evans today?"

Sirius perked up at this. Here was news he was dying to know. Rumors had been flying mad ever since the first Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw match. The Head Girl, they said, had become something of an academic ghost. She came to the Marauder's dorm, once the Head Boy and Girl dorm, then fled for duties. Once finished with her many tasks and meetings, she disappeared again. Alice had started spending more time with Frank, finally said yes to his constant mooning and made him impossible to live with in the 7th dorm.

Alice's reaction was as Sirius had predicted. A line formed between her eye brows. Her mouth drew together pensively and more than a little confusion and anger passed over her dainty visage. Finally she settled for a casual, "Your guess is good as mine, but I don't think she stayed back today."

"Stayed _back_?" Pete was gaping as if this were the most sacrilegious thing he'd ever heard.

Alice shrugged and Frank wrapped his arm round and spoke for his girlfriend, "The girls aren't speaking right now."

Alice glared up at Frank and hissed, "Frank they don't need to know that!"

He shrugged. "'Fraid you make it obvious enough, darling. They practically live in that dorm with James, anyway."

Alice's eyes narrowed, swept to the three Marauders and settled predictably on Sirius without a shred of mercy.

_Even though it's Wormtail's fault for pissing our little pixie off…_

"Sirius, where is Potter?" she asked. "Everyone knows he's been mooning over Hermione Dumbledore, but no one's seen them in town today. And Hogsmeade is the _only_ place a couple can date!"

Sirius shrugged but couldn't help his grin. Even though Mione hadn't shared many details of what was happening between she and his other favorite person in all the world, James had been starry eyed ever since they snogged._Talk about a hopeless case! And I thought with Evans it was bad…_ He chuckled to himself and when Alice's frown deepened looked to Remus for help.

Moony turned away, pretending he wasn't listening with that damned werewolf hearing, and left him out to dry _again_.

"Well?" Alice pried deeper. Even Frank seemed interested.

Throwing up his hands and springing up from his slouch, he declared, "Sweet Salazar, I don't know!" He lied through his teeth and loved every second of it. "Probably off having the time of their lives while we wait here…" He ended with a last swig of his Butterbeer.

Alice was only intrigued further and smiled to herself. "I like Hermione Dumbledore. I think James is better because of her. He actually talks to everyone, goes about his Head duties like he loves it. Not like last week. Thought those poor Second Years will never get over that."

Frank laughed, "Good think you were nearby to look after them Alice, dear."

She grinned slyly and grabbed him by the collar to her level. "That's right. I'm a regular knight in white armor." And with a kiss, she silenced his embarrassed protests.

Hoots and hollers followed immediately of course. Remus and Pete clapped and added to the din.

Sirius smiled but couldn't help feel that usual pang that caught him every time he saw this. The whole idea was disgusting really, loving one other person, when there were so many other birds out there to test. But knowing Hermione had changed things. He was too good a brother to James Potter to consider all the reasons he was impatient for them to get back from the shack.

Alice and Frank were lost to their own world and in the dull calm after Pete announced, staring into his empty mug. "Wish I'd asked her out first."

Sirius and Remus nearly choked on their own words and ale. "What?"

Pete blushed and frowned as he shrugged. "Just hope she'll help me with my homework more…now that she's gonna become a Marauder."

A loud drinking song was begun from the other corner of the tavern, Hufflepuffs off their rockers, of course…

Remus's eyes widened and he exchanged obvious looks with the Black directly across. "I'm certain Hermione won't forget any of us…" A bit lower, he whispered as he leaned over the table, "But it's a bit soon to talk about _that_ don't you think?"

Pete merely shrugged, done with his input on the matter.

Sirius shook his head, eyes round as the pint in his hand. "Well fuck…guess I hadn't thought that far ahead…"

"We shouldn't rush things so much this time, don't you think Padfoot? After the last time…" He glanced over to the obviously happy Alice. They were thinking about Lily Evans and how she trashed James' heart to tiny bleeding pieces.

Sirius shook his head. "No…this is different. I _know_ because of her. Hermione's not like anyone else in the world…of course she'll become one of us." He missed the look Remus gave him then, a curious blend of pity and understanding.

"We need to be extra careful from now on you know." When Sirius' head cocked to the side slightly, perfect in imitation with his Animagus, Remus added. "The _Snakes_ haven't made things easy for him."

Sirius glared at everyone and no one, accidently made three girls burst into tears nearby as a result.

"Oh I know better than anyone what _they'll_ do, thank you very much…" he ground out. They had saved James from at least half a dozen Slytherin sabotages in the last three weeks. And the term had just started. Nodding to himself, he added, "We need to move to phase two then. We'll start quiet, let James have a rest with everything else he has to deal with. Once the plan is in motion we tell him, yeah?"

Remus met his look with an equally dark, devious grin and lifted his mug in toast. "Phase two it is."

Just as Sirius was about to attack his second draught of Rosmerta's best, a gust of magical energy whisked the mug from his hands and sent it toppling its contents on the table. A shout accompanied the threat, "Hey Black!" Sirius jumped from his seat, would already have crossed the muted tavern by now if Remus hadn't grabbed his cloak in time.

Three tables down, Scamander, a Ravenclaw who in Sirius' opinion spent too much time in company of the Snakes, was standing at the head of his troop of scum. "Hope you enjoy having a tosser for a best mate! Or perhaps you're only his mate so you can share his escort's assets?"

Sirius roared out with a vicious blaze in his silver eyes and canine grin. "No more than you enjoy whoring out to every Snake with the right sized quaffles!"

"Padfoot!" Remus shoved him back in his seat as more calls were made back and forth.

Sirius trembled and allowed himself to be cowed, not because he listened to Remus anyway, but because right now he could only think of what they said about _Hermione._ "Damn bastards!" he growled.

"Bloody toerags!" Peter echoed his thoughts.

"No one speaks ill of James Potter!" Other Gryffindors had jumped at the outspoken Ravenclaw. They practically leapt from their booths and swung their fists at the Ravenclaws opposite them.

Soon Rosemerta was calling threats as she dodged their swinging fists. "I'll have no such tom foolery in my father's tavern! Get a hold of yourselves before I have to ban you from the Sticks forever!" When the fists refused to cease flying, she whipped out her wand seemingly from nowhere and cried out, "_**Aguamenti**_!"

The fight was stopped by the jet of water pouring from the barmaid's wand and over their heads.

She shoved her wand back up her sleeve, saying, "Let that douse your fire gentleman!" Cheers followed her from Hufflepuff's corner.

Sirius shook his head, hardly paying attention to the chaos around them. Attacks were nothing new. The four houses were loyal to themselves above all others, but few dared to openly challenge anyone unless it was a Lion to a Snake and vice versa.

_Come to think of it, there's been a lot of odd things going on…_

He thought of the day he and James were ambushed in the corridor by wannabe Death Eaters. That was the first and last time James had faced the open end of the enemy's wand. Sirius had welcomed more through their many pranks.

_How can Hermione belong to that house? She's nothing like them…_

"You alright there, mate?" Frank Longbottom offered, arm wrapped securely round his Alice. They exchanged a glance and she offered a sweet grin to him.

"Scamander's out of his bogging mind, Black," she said. "Don't be so tetchy over him."

Sirius' frown deepened, still he couldn't be bothered to answer. Too much to _think_ about.

"What's wrong with him?" Alice tried again.

Frank shrugged and looked to Remus, but the werewolf was already sharing a knowing grin with Peter. It was the smaller party loving Marauder who answered her at last. "Uh-oh. We know that look. Better stand back before he blows."

Remus chuckled, "Sirius can't stand to think for this long. Best not speak to him till he comes back to the light."

Alice rolled her eyes and turned to Frank. "I've had enough of these louts, Frankie. Let's go by Honeyduke's before it's too late! I'm running low on my sweets stash."

Frank offered a grin to the boys and stood up first. "Right. See you later, fellows."

Soon as they were gone Peter initiated the drinking competition. Remus rolled his eyes, pulling a small notepad from his pocket, where he kept score for such occasions while Wormtail called their drinks over.

"I don't know why he thinks he can out drink you still," Remus mumbled. "This will be the…wait…forty-seventh time you've beat him?" Remus shook his head then frowned when Sirius said nothing. "What is it with you? Look, if you're going into one of your moods at least wait till James comes back. Maybe I should have let you hex the lights out of Scamander…" he mused, rubbing his stubble riddled chin.

Sirius' eyes were back on him in a flash at the mention Scamander. "Attacks coming from all sides…" he softly said. "I don't like this Moony, not a bit. What he said was fucked up."

Rolling his eyes, Remus replied, "I know mate, no doubt. But I've heard Snakes, hell your own _brother_ call you worse than that and you let it go. What makes this time any different?"

Sirius shook his head. What _was_ the trouble really? James was the one who never tolerated anyone laying into his friends. Sirius preferred to push the inherent gifts his mum had passed to him on their enemies instead. He could be devilishly charming and get away with almost anything, could keep James from blowing off his rocker too if he wanted. But it was more fun to let him blow steam and rush the little shits together.

This was different…his eyes scanned the tavern and took it in.

_No Snakes…_

A dark feeling resonated deep with the dark magical legacy he'd been born to, left him with a feeling he couldn't shake. And no matter where he took his thoughts he couldn't put Hermione's face out his head.

"Padfoot?" Remus tried again, seconds before Pete unloaded his fresh round on the table and hollered for all to hear.

"Who's gonna get sloshed first!"

Sirius tried to pull himself out of his self made funk and pasted on a cocky grin. "Psh! In your dreams Wormtail! Mummy dearest raised me on Firewhisky instead of milk you know!"

Rosemerta cackled as she watched the game commence. Bets were laid out and Sirius was starting to forget his fears and enjoy the way her breasts threatened to burst from her blouse with every laugh. Until he set his cup down a bit _too_ hard and the mug shattered on the table.

Several unexpected things happened at once.

Rosemerta shouted and then screamed.

Students let out a collective roar of terror.

Glass shattered from every window and burst _inward_ to slice at those within the tavern with a magical gust of wind.

Screams poured out into the streets as the Hogwarts students jumped up and tried to escape.

"What the hell!" Remus shouted and grabbed both Sirius and Pete with either hand and practically hauled them to the broken window panes but not outside, yet.

Rosemerta was still shouting not from fear but fury, stalked up behind the boys to follow the trail of their gaze. "Merlin's beard! We need Albus!" She disappeared on the spot.

Pete, heavily sloshed and blinking with half aware eyes, still managed to pull his wand from his pocket. "Whasgoinon?" he slurred.

Remus narrowed his eyes and Sirius was never more sober or troubled in his life.

Chaos had spilled out in the streets of Hogsmeade. Bursts of color exploded where magic collided with its target, by the colors Sirius could see, curses, the lot of it. People fell beneath the weight of dark magic. The air was teeming with the sickly sweet smell. Sirius wrinkled his nose. Only those born to it could _taste_ its foul stench on the air. Today it reeked of his _family_.

Occasionally, dark figures swept from in and out of the crowd of students, winked in and out with loud cracks and pops of apparition.

Remus shook his head and sighed heavily before saying, "Think we can make it to Honeyduke's in time?"

Sirius gripped his wand tightly in his hand. "Maybe…" His eyes widened when the clock began to chime behind them, turned and froze when he noticed the time. Remus' eyes connected his with realization and horror.

"Mione…" Sirius whispered the same time Remus said, "James."

* * *

_**Review: What's going to happen next?! Hope everyone's enjoying the upcoming holidays and not having too many mental cases lol. Enjoy the cooling weather, oh, and this update of course ;)**_


	24. II: defiance breeds disaster

**A/N:** _This one goes to all my loverly Jamione fans, old and new readers and specifically, mh21, whose review just convinced me to update ;)_

* * *

**Part 2: Hogwarts**

* * *

**Chapter 24**

**Defiance Breeds Disaster**

* * *

Hermione loved the Shrieking Shack about as much as she loved Bertie's Flavor Beans, quite a lot in fact. It was creepy and falling apart and something foreign hung in the air she couldn't quite place, but she had a thing for old houses.

She knew from the moment James carried her over the threshold, there weren't any ghosts in the Shrieking Shack, no matter how many times James jumped out of the shadows to try and scare her.

The magic pulsing through their veins made it impossible for him to frighten her because she could _feel_ him whenever he was near. And the more physical their relationship grew, the better Hermione was at _knowing_.

For instance, she knew he had gone ahead to _check_ on a suspicious noise, _probably rats_, he said.

Hermione rolled her eyes and tread quietly as her weight allowed, sighed when creaks and groans echoed throughout the dusty house. James was hiding just behind that closed door ahead. "Oh no, James? Did you catch the rat? Where could he have gone?" she deadpanned and stared, hands on her hips when he leaped from his hiding place and clawed at the air with a werewolf growl and wild eyes.

"_Arr_…hmm…how sweet you smell my dear!" He began to slink towards her in an almost _too_ perfect imitation, eyebrows wagging as he stalked her.

Hermione held up a finger and took a step back for each advance. "Think carefully before you leap, Potter."

His grin pulled the left side of his face in a darker semblance of his cocky grin. "Oh I've thought this one through, believe me." When he began to growl and moved to jump, Hermione squealed and darted the other way.

He was already laughing as he pounded after her on the unsturdy wood. She had just made it to the first stair and was about to jump two at once when she heard a crack and splinter behind and, "OH SH—

"James?" She rounded to find her Gryffindor boyfriend dismembered, only still on this floor because he was gripping the tattered rug for dear life to keep from falling the rest of the way, to the level below.

Hermione giggled and then burst into loud laughter.

James grimaced from pain and annoyance. "Mione I think I may have scraped something…"

"I just hope you didn't _crush_ anything important." Another snort interrupted her train of thought and James glared darkly up at her. Approaching cautiously, she said, "I may be persuaded to help you, on one condition…"

Rolling his eyes, his lips twitched into a hesitant grin. "Right now, I'd be willing to do anything to keep from falling on top of the parlor piano."

Hermione sighed and shook her head, enjoying his helplessness.

"Well?" he grunted. "You gonna help a fellow out or not Witch?"

"I sort of like you in this position."

"Hermione!"

Stretching out a hand, Hermione smiled and thought of a complicated spell she actually couldn't remember learning.

James yelped as he was tugged by an invisible force up into the air and straight into Hermione's arms. They both shrieked when they fell through an open doorway of the narrow hall, a cloud of dust billowing from their impact.

Somehow James managed to twist them so he didn't crush his Witch and Hermione groaned loudly from on top of him, "Bloody hell…"

James laughed to hear the pious Slytherin curse and waited until her luminous brown orbs were on his. "Guess I always did imagine you on top."

Hermione smacked him hard on the chest then squealed the moment his fingers began to travel up her sides. "Git! What are you—stop! James!"

"Speechless for the second time in one day!" he declared. "Padfoot was right, I've got a gift!"

Tossing her curly head from side to side, Hermione knew all of Lefay's hard work was ruined and tried to escape. James only drew her closer and flipped them so Hermione was beneath. He straddled her narrow waist and his grin faded. Her laughter died when he realized what room they were in.

James had heard stories about the previous owners of this house. Once it had been a happy place, until the Wizard's wife had died mysteriously…in this very room. White sheets covered everything, including the large bed just ahead of them.

"James, what is it?" Hermione's voice softened when his hands came to rest over her rib cage, to draw protectively over her heard pounding in her chest.

He smiled down at her and the sight of her beneath him, her curls fanned out an untidy mess, chest heaving beneath his hands, full lips curved into a smile and their ancient magic building in friction the longer they touched…

"Hermione, do you ever wonder about life after death?" he breathlessly asked.

Her brows furrowed. "What do you mean? Like ghosts?"

He traced the skin of her jaw to her exposed collar bone and nodded. "I always wondered whether the Muggles had it right or not, about the man upstairs, you know. I think I do believe in him sometimes. But I wonder what makes some of us cross over and others stay behind."

Hermione shuddered. "I don't know what I believe anymore. I can't remember what I believed before… But the idea of staying behind, watching generations pass without changing…of being cold forever, terrifies me."

He leaned further then, braced his arms on either side, effectively trapping her. "And what if I wanted you to haunt me, Hermione?"

She couldn't help the flutter that sent shivers up her spine. He was so close, his body pressing deliciously against hers in all the right places. Something greater than either of them sparked and made the pleasure sharper, the need greater. It was all Hermione Dumbledore could do to let him hover just above her, so perfectly close.

She whispered, "If you died before me…would you stay behind?"

"In a heartbeat."

Hermione drew him in.

* * *

He covered her mouth with his, savored each lip with hunger.

When she wrapped her legs around his waist, he pressed until no more space was left. A very obvious bulge trapped within his pants grazed the fabric of her dress. Heat built at her core and she gasped when he drew himself against her slowly, languidly. Each subtle thrust of his hips was met with Hermione's own, rising to meet him.

His groan was deep because of her eager response and the grimace on his face was driven by lust and pain at having to hold back, when he needed her so much. And he did need her. He needed her to live forever with him, either in life or death.

"Prongs!" a voice hissed in his Muggle coat pocket.

Both of them jerked apart in surprise, though there was little James could do about the hard on in his pants.

_I'm gonna kill him_, he thought as he straightened and grinning slyly at Hermione, pulled the two-way mirror from his pocket.

Hermione let her head fall back with a '_thunk'_ on the hardwood floor and a discontented sigh.

James tried not to chuckle as he held the mirror up and sobered up immediately at the look on Padfoot's face. Sirius' eyes were glazed with the usual post inebriated haze, yet also wide with super Wizard alert. Something was very wrong. "Prongs!" He whisper-shouted.

"What's going on out there?" James asked.

A dull roar rose from behind Sirius in the mirror. Remus blurred in and out of focus and from the jostle James could tell they were running. "Come on Sirius we have to go now!"

Sirius growled while never breaking eye contact with the mirror, "Not without warning them!"

"We only have this chance!" Remus insisted.

Hermione scrambled from beneath him and drew her lip between her teeth, eyes wide, pensive.

James yelled, "Padfoot, what the hell is going on out there?"

Sirius's gaze sharpened. "Don't come to Hogsmeade! Death Eaters! Lots of them! Get to the passage. We'll meet you." And then his image faded, replaced by James's own outraged hazel eyes, burning behind dark rimmed glasses.

James shook his head and let his hand fall between them. When their eyes finally met, James felt his anger rising.

_Death Eaters in Hogsmeade._

_Death Eaters attacking students_…

It took all of two seconds for him to thread his fingers through her and make up his mind. "Come on," he said, pulling her up to stand beside him. He practically carried her as they avoided the gap in the hall and rushed down the stairs to the landing.

"James!" she protested, "Where are we going?" With all the strength she had in her little frame she held her ground then, forced him to turn and face her.

So many feelings crashed over him the moment he saw her fear, her pain. He would never let them touch her again! He was trembling and didn't know it until she closed the space between them and took his face between her hands.

"James…it's going to be all right..." And then a flash of determination that mirrored his own filled her amber eyes. "Come on, let's go help them."

His eyes widened, awoke him from the drug of her touch. "What?" he cried, forgetting his original foolhardy plans. "Not in all seven hells Hermione! I'm taking you back to Hogwarts _now_. You heard Padfoot! They're going to the Honeydukes secret passage. They'll meet us there!"

Her jaw set, eyes hardened. "Those bastards are attacking children. No one there knows how to hold their own against Death Eaters." She turned and ran for the doorway.

James blocked her, held her by the shoulders, pleaded. "NO! I promised you I'd never let those little _fucks_ touch you again! Don't make me force you to come back with me!"

Her eyes narrowed. "You can try."

He shook his head, refusing and struggling to fight the desperation in his chest at the thought of her struck down again. The thought terrified him. "I'm not losing you Hermione, damn it!"

She surprised him when the glint in her eye softened and reached to draw his neck down, kissed him firmly and lingering on his lips. And even though the contact was fresh to the both of them as it was addictively exciting, it was a simple action done with the practice perfected over a lifetime.

Foreheads pressed together, she sighed, "I know you feel like you need to protect me. But I was fighting this war before we met. For them it's only beginning. Let me help."

Shaking his head one last time and cursing himself inwardly, James thrust open the door and dragged them out into the first snows.

Their eyes met when he wrapped his arms round her and pulled within himself, pictured High Street in his mind and they disappeared with a '**_POP_**'

* * *

_No way in a dragon's tooth we're making it to Honeydukes now…_

Much of High Street had been vacated during the sudden attack, including many of the terrified students. Sirius couldn't understand why none of their professors had arrived, not even Aurors.

"This makes no sense!" Remus was growling, his edges blurring occasionally beneath a fresh wave of the attack. While some Death Eaters had disappeared, others remained on the main strip running through town and were cornering groups of students. "Why hasn't anyone come?!"

"I don't know!" Sirius tried not to stare at the fallen bodies littered around them. There weren't as many as there could have been.

_We should have gone for help from the start. _Instead he'd been too worried about Hermione and James. Even though it pained him to see the younger students who hadn't had a fighting chance against such dark magic, truth was he was _still_ scared shitless James would ignore his orders and they would show up in the middle of this with them.

Wormtail wasn't light on his feet, even while fleeing for his life. He had tripped over the foot of one Death Eater who hadn't made it alive. This of course caught the attention of a huddle of Hufflepuffs rushing towards them, running away from the five black cloaks striding calmly after them.

Remus tried to haul him up but the puffs crowded the Seventh Year Marauders, eyes shining with tears and terror. Sirius followed, boldly standing in front of the small crew.

"Padfoot!" Remus warned.

Sirius forced a laugh and prayed James and Hermione already made it to Hogwarts. "Come on Moony! You remember who made all O's in D.A.D.A?"

"Us," the werewolf deadpanned.

His blood was racing and he didn't see the first stream of silvery light zip past him, but heard Remus block it with his shield.

Sirius let loose his growing arsenal, knowing Remus would protect the others. Wormtail was too sloshed to be useful other than a jellylegs jinx he threw at one of the five Death Eaters surrounding them.

"Don't harm Black!" the tallest of the five shouted.

_What the fuck?!_

Sirius' mind barely had time to register before his temper got the better of him and his magical well drug deeper than it ever had before. His hurling hex threw two of the bastards crashing through the Three Broomsticks' front door.

_Sorry Rosie_…

"**_Expelliarmus_!**" Sirius barely managed to cry and failed to snatch away the Death Eater's wand in turn. He cursed himself for wishing James were here, fighting at his side, and instead erected a powerful shield in front of them, doubling the one Remus had already reformed and braced. "Moony! Apparate them to the gates!"

Remus growled, "What do you think you are doing? You won't last five seconds against three of them! And we don't even have our licenses yet you jackass!"

"Just listen to me damn it!" He removed the shield and cried out, "**_Reducto_!**"

The walls nearest the remaining Death Eaters exploded, chunks of rock came flying out, knocked one a bloody heap to the ground. The others shouted nonsensically.

Sirius felt the others Disapparate behind him and closing his eyes in silent prayer James had listened to him, followed the others to the grounds gates.

* * *

With a loud crackling pop and rush of Apparition, Hermione and James fell in the middle of High Street and the exact spot the rest of the Marauders had just fled. They fell into the center of chaos incarnate, with screams and dying shouts all around them.

For Hermione, it was the realization of burrowed memories brought back to life and she stared at the still flutter of fingers and heads tangled together no further than a meter ahead.

James saw his worst nightmares realized and the War had not even officially begun to affect too much of his world yet.

_It begins here_…he thought somewhere distantly, deeper than the rest of his adolescent conscience.

Several seconds they turned their heads to take in the wreck of a place that had represented their happiness.

James' voice was already hoarse. "Don't see any sign of them here. They must have made it to the Honeydukes passage in time."

The black cloaks were on the move. Most of the students were either down or running blindly for the carriages and any help that could be found on the empty street. Yet smoke billowed just ahead and Hermione's eyes narrowed in on it instantly.

"Over there," she spoke, a rasp of a whisper.

James nodded.

Hands clasped together, both pulled out their wands at the same time and slipped past groaning Death Eaters trying to stand from the smattering of rock.

His ears caught the gasp of the most alert, barely registered shout, "Milord! They have arrived!" And ripping away his sleeve, the Death Eater touched his wand to his arm.

"Hermione! Come on!" James shouted, panicked. He knew enough from his father and godfather, to have an idea of what was coming.

They darted for the pillar of smoke. The only sound was the pounding rhythm of their hearts, their haggard breath and the crack and pop of spells and apparition, the gasps and groans of the wounded.

Up ahead was the reason Hermione knew they had no choice but to come. A small circle of predominantly sixth and seventh years formed a tiny ring, and cloaks surrounded them. The Death Eaters took turns taunting.

The shop Hermione recognized to be Madame Puddifoots was smoking from a fire spell gone wrong. Her eyes widened when she recognized several of the faces in front of them. There was Binns, great something of their History of Magic professor. Beside him was Marlene McKinnon, Eddie Underhill, Sasparilla Ashwood, Wilfred Smythe and Zephania Smith, spouting off defensive spells with tiring eyes.

"They're not going to make it!" Hermione urged James into the fray.

He held her back, forced her to meet his eye. "Wait you crazy Witch! Just breathe first, okay?" There was unnatural confidence in his eyes, as if it were perfectly natural to face a hoard of dark Wizards.

She couldn't even see the fear in those amber flecked emerald orbs, only the passion he held for her, and the confidence that turned her resolve into determination.

After he cocked his brow in question she nodded and they turned once more, together, before rushing and shouting together, "**_Dissendium_!**"

Like a stash of pins the black cloaks literally severed in two as the hex sliced through skin, doing far worse damage than the typical severing curse. Hermione didn't know how she knew James would use the same spell as she would, let alone conjure it at the same time. But the answering screams and answering cheers of relief distracted her scattered thoughts.

The students who had hovered together to avoid capture, injury or death, rushed to the Head Boy and the Slytherin princess. They were all a little less than Half Blood, two were Muggleborn and never expected for James Potter to rescue them, least of all the queen of the House that hated them most. Like having your hero and your enemy joining to fight on your side, it was too weighty a thought for their minds to process at the moment. Instead they aided them in the fight against the enemy.

Hermione thrust up a shield in rebound to the explosive curse hurtled their way. Spells came flying faster than she had time to keep up. She kept to defensive spells only so far, simply too busy protecting the other students and the Wizard at her back. Their hands were still clasped and the ancient magic pulsed between them still, ever present and itching to be released.

"The shield is tearing!" one Death Eater growled, more animal than man.

"Silence, Fenrir! The Dark Lord made certain we would not be interrupted this time!" The black cloak beside him answered in clipped, polished English.

Another rushed from the wreckage they had left behind, gasping for breath. "It's Dumbledore! He's bringing the Professors and they're already catching students. We have to get out of here!"

The tall polished one intoned, while the rest of their comrades continued the attack on the remaining students. "Not until our task is finished! We have a lesson to give, remember?"

"Oh shit! They're breaking through!"

Hermione wondered what shield they were speaking of and just as suddenly, she could _see_ the shield. It was a tangible glowing thing, like silvery fabric, streaming with spells and magic tangled and powerful, all around them. This is why no one had come to their rescue yet. This is why the Death Eaters were in no rush to leave.

"Go to the others, make sure we leave none behind!" the tallest commanded.

The burly one, more animal than man growled, "Let me at least have a taste!"

"No Fenrir! The signal!"

Hermione pulled them away, could _feel_ something was about to happen that they would not want to be present for. She could already feel _it _coming, the darkness that would swallow them all whole.

McKinnon urged Smythe and Ashwood on either arm, "Come on you lot! Can't wait for Voldemort to crash this party!"

James laughed, "Glad to see you're keeping up morale McKinnon!"

She grinned, though it was pulling the bruised half of her face in painful ways. "Always, Potter!"

So preoccupied in their current smoking demonstration, now spiraling to the clouds above and invoking some thick groaning skull of a thing, the Death Eaters had nearly forgotten their prey.

"Stop them!" Hermione heard them scream from behind.

She squeezed James' hand tightly and their eyes met as they ran after the others. "They won't get away unless we stop them!"

James groaned and cursed, "Godric's tatty knickers! Can't you for once think about yourself, love?" Yet he was smiling as he twisted them around and pointed his wand the same time she did.

"A Slytherin? Selfless?" Hermione teased, almost covering the tremor in her voice.

The last of Hogwarts students had found refuge, but the skies clouded over, night amidst the day. And they darted into an abandoned alley, the Hog's Head gaping just on the other end. Black cloaks rushed past where they had just fled, oblivious.

Through the double punch power of her wand, Hermione wandlessly sent a bat bogey hex their way and grinned to hear their screams when it caught up with them.

"Sometimes you really scare me, you know," James whispered with a light shake of his head.

She smiled up at him and finished her string of spells with something not even Death Eaters would be able to break before her uncle showed up in time. "There. That will hold them."

"Any brilliant plan as to how we're going to escape?" James offered sardonically, "Keep any dragons in that pocket of yours, or we going to climb the rooftops and leap to the other end of the village?" Of all times, of all places Hermione wasn't expecting to laugh.

They weren't prepared to turn towards the Hog's Head and find a single black cloaked figure waiting at the other end of the alley.

Chills swept through both of them the moment its raspy hollow voice began, "I see you have given my Knights quite a lot of trouble today. All we meant was to give a simple demonstration of what happens to Muggles that imagine themselves worthy to be called _Wizard_."

"What do you want?" James seethed.

Hermione grasped both arms from behind him, whispered, "James no!"

The hooded figure was darker than the others somehow, she felt, _empty_ and yet filled with so many things Hermione could not describe. The dark magic drenching the air around him and creeping along the ground toward them was unlike anything she'd ever known.

And the tone of his imperious voice turned instantly curious. "Potter I presume? I have heard of you. Your _familial_ reputation precedes you… Yet you are young enough your power could be curbed… Tell me, have you ever dreamt of the darkness that whispers to you in the night?"

She could sense James growing more and more uncomfortable, could suddenly feel the signatures of other Death Eaters approaching from the barrier she had erected, sounding off her wards.

They interrupted, "Milord! Here they are! They stopped us from collecting the others."

A hiss like cackle sliced through the air like a knife, effectively cut off his minion's tirade. "Enough! Do not presume to tell me things I have not already observed with my own eyes!"

The Death Eaters shifted nervously, bowed their heads low.

"Ah! And here is something new… Dear girl, I can _feel_ the power wrapped round you! The darkness covers you like a second skin and yet you are something different."

He took slow creeping steps to approach them and with each one Hermione felt the air grow chilled and thick with the dark. A pale spidery hand stretched out, but did not quite reach them.

Instead she felt his dark magic _caress _her face.

James wrapped his arms tightly around her, keeping his back to the alley wall. "Get the _fuck_ away from us you bastards!"

For a moment the menacing dark figure stilled, fist clenched as though containing something.

Only Hermione saw the dark magic threaten to escape his control. She wondered how any one being could manage such constant control over so great a force. Did he ever sleep? Did it drive him mad?

She could sympathize with this at least. There were moments when she felt her own magic threatened her sanity. Compassion filled her against her will as she met his gaze and instantly regretted it.

His eyes were locked onto hers and tearing through her memories before she realized, directing the rage of his focus on the only other one present who could stand it.

She screamed and the golden magic that surrounded James, tinged with his own darkness rippled, pulsed to threaten free, licked at the Death Eaters uncomfortably. They backed the way they had come, nervously.

Hermione was dragged through a half dozen memories, slowed through her most recent chat with Uncle Albus and the curiosity of the mind brushing hers burst with greed and excitement and cold passion. He was more powerful than she had expected and only with every ounce of ancient and hidden magic was she able to shield the rest of her mind, to draw upon the one keeping her former life hidden for more strength. The curse latched for the invader's mind like an oozing plague and he gasped as he instantly retreated.

Hermione squeezed James' hand as she sought to push the curse back into its rightful corner of her mind and opened her eyes. Only now did she connect the missing pieces, did she see the tangled threads weave into one thought.

_This is Voldemort._

His laughter filled the alley, high and unnatural. "How delightful! We have among us the lost heir of the Dumbledore legacy! However did your Uncle keep you a secret my dear? Oh this really is too delightful!" With his next step, Hermione felt the darkness weigh even more over her. "You both would be such an asset to our cause, you know. Both of you have a duty to perform for the purity of our race!"

James growled, "Fuck your cause!"

His hiss was their only warning. "Fools!" He reached out a hand and the curse was fast as lightning. It leaped from his spidery hand and would have reached James had Hermione not screamed, dropped her wand and thrust out a hand to stop it. Her own magic wrapped around his, fought for dominance and won only because of his surprise.

He screamed when she pushed further, as she felt James convulse beneath the outer fringes of Voldemort's dark curse and she fell to the stonework with him. She flung his own magic back at him, pressed it against him and screamed when James slipped only further.

In his final aware moments James reached towards the dark wizards opposite their greater enemy and the impact of his nonverbal curse sent a stream of purple light, hit its target and the leader fell quickly into numb silence.

The remaining Death Eaters rushed to help their master, but the wild magic surrounding Hermione made for a powerful barrier and it attacked them ruthlessly every time they tried to break it.

Clutching his covered head with both hands the Dark Lord's scream switched from cackle to scream and back and through a voice laced with anguish he groaned, "So—much—power! Oh sweetest—" He was not allowed to finish, because at that same moment Voldemort noticed they were no longer alone in their alley. He Disapparated without warning to his Death Eaters and Hermione felt the strain as the wayward curse was severed completely, evaporating to thin air.

Tears blurred the watercolor images moving rapidly. Her emotions were unraveling with the unconscious boy in her arms and a chorus of screams echoed their masters. Two of the remaining three had known to run away, but not before Hermione's fury wrapped tightly round the inner magic of the nearest and drained it completely.

Into the ruin of High Street the others fled, where professors neither of them wanted to see awaited. Whether they escaped or were caged in Azkaban forever after, Hermione never learned.

She rocked with James in her arms and tried to control her shivering, blinked past tears that ran and splashed on his fluttering eyelids.

"Come," a deep, gravelly voice startled her aware.

She jumped and turned to find a worn yet strong hand stretched out to her. When she stared numbly still he knelt into the unwashed grime and a pair of familiar gray blue eyes was twinkling down at her. Something clicked into place the moment those eyes found her.

His face was obscured by a thick dark gray beard, yet it was so eerily a semblance to her Uncle Albus, Hermione found herself reaching for his hand immediately.

And the moment their hands touched she opened her mouth in surprise at the faint jolt of recognition. Their eyes met again, his this time gleaming with unshed tears and a slow, broken smile lightened his heavy features.

His eyes darted to her fallen wand. "Don't forget those."

Hermione blinked and while the tall man lifted James with the same ease one might a child, Hermione snatched both his and her fallen wands. She peeked beyond her wild mess of curling hair, pushed it aside to find them already ahead of her and making way to the Hog's Head.

Struggling to stand, Hermione limped after them.


	25. II: mending bruises

_**A/N:** __joanvindiesel gives the best frikkin reviews ever! Thanks for reminding me why I love this story so much. :) This quick update is dedicated to kawaiishiella, BrightestWitchOfHerAge16, TsukiyoTenshi (for always being patient ;), adrianiforever, MystereRaven, and the incomparable mh21 for wanting the next update that much! Enjoy lovelies._

* * *

**PART 2: Hogwarts**

**Chapter 25**

**mending bruises**

* * *

"Wouldn't want them to find your wands now would we?" The blue eyed stranger spoke as they came round the aged and gloomy tavern, to what could only be described as the _side entrance_. It led to a set of stairs and in the apartment above rested a Spartan styled home. Below the drinking songs and gruff voices of the Hog's Head carried on a dim lull. Here all was surprisingly peaceful.

After gently easing James onto his couch, the Wizard began to whisper healing spells with every complex swish of his wand.

Hermione's feet somehow found the strength to carry her to a large empty painting, set over the blazing hearth. She knew the faded portrait was magical and wondered who was painted into it. Despite all her shot nerves and post adrenaline rush, she jumped when the old man spoke over her shoulder.

"They won't come looking for you here. I suggest you both rest while you can. Merlin knows my brother won't allow it once he gets his clutches on you two again," he muttered.

Hermione turned round to face their mysterious savior, her eyes seeking James just beyond and she was relieved to see that whatever spells the man had whispered over him seemed to be working.

The stranger was watching her pensively and rubbing his hands together nervously. "That was a very foolish thing you did back there, you know," he finally said.

Her eyebrow arched at his insinuation. Though she felt like collapsing any second, Hermione hadn't lost her new found courage. "Like interrupting a duel between dark wizards and children?"

His brow creased for a moment, eyes narrowing and crinkled by the many lines that gave character to his face.

Something about him was troubling her subconscience, a nagging sensation that told her she should recognize him. And as she took in his wrinkled and stoic features, she felt that once, he might have smiled quite often.

As if to answer her silent question he laughed, so suddenly, even James stirred from his delirium. "Good Godric!" he man said. "You are just as she was, before! Damned fool was telling me the truth for once!"

Eyes narrowed, Hermione challenged, "Who are you? Why did you save us? No one else in Hogsmeade tried to help any of us."

His laughter abated, the bearded man's eyes twinkled with fresh light. "Not all of us are heroes Hermione. Most of the people in this town came here to avoid trouble with outside affairs, not welcome them on our threshold." His gray-blue eyes flickered up to the portrait behind her and filled with something else before settling on the belligerent schoolgirl across from him. "I am Aberforth, owner of the Hogs Head. And I am a little more foolish than most of the Wizards in this village, undoubtedly the most stubborn. When I saw the dark mark right over my tavern, I thought I'd have a look at what caused it…and there you were!"

Hermione was at a loss for words. Aberforth knew her name, yet there was something beyond the knowing in his eyes, as if he _knew_ something she did not. There was also something disturbing about his manner, in spite of the laugh lines in his face, as if he had forgotten how to smile or be happy decades ago. His smiles and twinkling eyes were something new. Hermione was certain of this and dubious as to the cause.

"Mione?" a weary voice intoned and snatched all her attention from their savior. Hermione stumbled in her rush to reach James's side. She smiled wearily the moment he opened his eyes to her. The tension in his body eased instantly, replaced by relief. He took in their surroundings with amusement after and said, "Where in the heavenly corners of your eyes are we, love?"

* * *

"Only you would joke at a time like this." She shook her head all the while running her hands over every one of his patched wounds till she was satisfied.

"Only _you _would second guess a Wizard's handiwork, Witch!" He sent a nod to Aberforth, a grin tugging at his cheeks, on a young face that was constantly finding reasons to smile. But this time, for once, the smile didn't reach his hazel eyes. His only joy was seeing her smile at his ridiculousness, his victory in distracting her from the terror he had allowed them to face together. James wished he'd followed his first instincts and done as Padfoot ordered him to.

_Instead of running around trying to be the hero you son of a hippogriff. _

With a smile still faint on her face, she said, "You didn't see what he tried to do to you…what he would have done if…" Fear choked her words from passing her lips and she gasped for breath, clutched at her throat and envisioned in those seconds a world _without _James Potter in it.

"James…" she breathed.

_I could not exist…_

Humor forgotten, James instantly grabbed his Witch and pulled her tightly into his arms, ignoring the sting of his freshly mended flesh. Because she _needed_ this even if she didn't realize it and because James needed to feel her too. He remembered more of what almost happened in that alleyway than Hermione realized. Thanks to countless Daily Prophet photographs the dark silhouette of their enemy was already familiar to him.

"Voldemort is on the rise." Aberforth spoke their mutual fears aloud.

While Hermione only buried herself further in James' bloodied cloak, he gathered his wits and turned to face his godfather's younger brother.

The elder Wizard watched the painting above the fireplace mantle grimly. Without turning round, he added, "He will see his plans succeed this time. He has been planning this for decades you know. Once he is rid of my brother, he will begin the first reign of terror…"

James nodded and tried to sort through everything they had been through. But Aberforth's words had the opposite effect on Hermione.

Rousing her from her very un-Slytherinish melt down, she demanded, "What do you mean your brother?" A slight tremor altered her voice, making it childlike instead of the young woman she was becoming.

Aberforth turned only slowly to meet her eye, a soft smile on his grizzled face as he replied, "Dumbledore."

Hermione gasped as memories of her Uncle's countless tales came rushing to the forefront of her thoughts. "_Aberforth_…how did I not see?"

He pulled a pocket watch from his coat then, a long-chained golden heirloom and met her eye once more with that undeniable knowing. "I am more than pleased to make your acquaintance, Hermione Dumbledore. But I must request you do not tell my brother of my interference, or the duel I just interrupted. In fact, I think it might be in your best interest not to tell him you were even here today."

"Why?" James bluntly and suspiciously asked. Brother of his godfather or not, James was no stranger to Aberforth or his hatred of his elder brother.

Without turning away from Hermione, he answered, "Because I have my own reasons to look after you two that have nothing to do with _him_. And because the two of you killed at least two Death Eaters in self defense today. Do not fool yourselves into thinking that defying the Dark Lord will go unnoticed. Pray your Slytherin friends do not learn of these events and hate you for it Hermione. And do not be fools to imagine that even the light wouldn't use you for their own agenda Mr. Potter. Your best defense is your trust in no one but yourselves and those dearest to you."

Turning to the portrait, an even brighter smile lit his face.

Curious, Hermione came to stand beside the much taller Wizard. Her eyes widened to find a young woman had appeared and was currently smiling down from the formerly empty painting.

Aberforth nodded to the figure in the portrait. "Very well, if you are certain it is safe…"

James shuffled over to them, but neither turned to aid him and his pride wouldn't have stood for anything less.

Hermione couldn't tear her dark eyes from the pale ones transfixed on hers from above. Slowly, she wrapped her hands around Aberforth's strong arm without hesitation and to his surprise. With hardly a whisper, she asked, "Aberforth…who is that?" And when he didn't answer her, she glanced up to find his eyes wet with unshed tears and gleaming down at their joined limbs.

"This is my sister, Ariana…" he rasped.

Hermione glanced up at the Witch in the painting and watched her walk away. Without her quiet presence the portrait felt sadly empty. "Where did she go?" she asked.

James came to her other side and placed his hand on her arm as he hitched to rest his weight on his better leg.

Aberforth's words drew her gaze. "She found a safe way for you to enter the castle. It will take you into the Room of Hidden Things. From there you shall find your way to your dorms. Do not pause in the hospital wing or talk to anyone, for that matter. Should they ask, you went on a walk about the lake and came back early."

James nodded. "Better hurry, then. The boys will be waiting for us there I just know it." He tipped his fingers to his head in salute. "Thanks for everything, mate. You saved our lives tonight. Won't be forgetting this, long as we live, Marauder's honor," he said with a grin and promptly climbed into the portrait.

Hermione was aided by Aberforth's waiting arm, but he squeezed back in a silent signal before she could follow. Whirring back around to face him, she found tears disappearing into his beard, brokenness and happiness in his eyes.

"Hermione…" he began, "promise you will visit me every trip you make to Hogsmeade from now on?"

She smiled at him, one of her rare, brilliant, all encompassing grins that turned her into a genuine beauty, though she didn't know it. Without a second thought she threw her arms round his neck and whispered into his ear. "I promise."

* * *

Aberforth's portrait led them into the Room of Requirement, a place not even James or the Marauders had discovered until this night. The joy of the discovery, "_something that_ _shall change everything,"_ he declared, with that special gleam in his eye, was dampened by their weariness. They couldn't shake the weight of so much coming together and falling apart in a span of twenty-four hours.

In twenty-four hours, Hermione mused, they had given in to their feelings, saved their classmates, killed Death Eaters, faced down the Dark Lord _and_ been rescued by Albus's estranged brother. After _that_, finding the Room of Requirement seemed insignificant.

Hogwarts was cold, eerily silent and mysteriously empty when they entered the fourth floor corridors. Hand in hand they passed to the Head Dorms, recently dubbed _Marauders's Headquarters_ and entered to the shouts of one very frantic Werewolf.

"Oh thank Merlin!" Remus exclaimed, snatching James from Hermione and hugging him so fiercely, his feet scaled the air. "You damn bastard! Didn't give us so much as a word! It was hell down there! Dumbledore's been in fits ever since and nearly a fourth of the school is in the hospital ward."

James's laugh was weak, his smile an effort, yet he clamped his tall friend's bent shoulder. "Moony, you should have known better than to think we'd get tangled up in _that_ mess! You forget I had the Princess of Slytherin Self-Preservation with me," he added with a wink.

Neither of them saw the immediate suspicion in the Marauder's amber-gray eyes. And James did his best to evasively answer all the rest of Moony's direct questions.

Hermione barely heard or saw anything other than the wild silvery eyes of the slighter darker Marauder, currently burning into _her._ Hermione had been unable to tear her eyes from Sirius from the moment they entered headquarters. It was impossible to do anything else after he set his hands on her shoulders and set his eyes to roving over her frame to make sure she was in perfect condition.

* * *

Pete had long ago passed out on one of the red plush couches in front of the dying fire. Sirius Black had not rushed them like he had first intended. Only seconds before their arrival, he had been ready to give in and tell Dumbledore, damn all the promises he made on Marauder's honor and whatever shit they had spouted about blood brothers. He wasn't going to let honor stand in the way of his best friends's lives.

"Sirius, I'm fine," she whispered softly, unaware how young and fragile she sounded now.

His silver eyes glazed over as they returned to hers, his mouth set in a grim line. Without speaking, he crushed Hermione into him, caved her within him. And into the shell of her ear, just because he didn't want Moony to hear, he hissed, "Don't you _ever_ disappear on me like that again, Hermione. I can't stand to lose either of you."

* * *

Shivering from exhaustion and the ripple of emotion echoing the brush of his lips against her ear, his surprising warmth gave Hermione a different kind of pleasure.

"Easy there mate. Keep your paws at a respectful distance from my girlfriend's arse." James continued to try and placate his friends, mainly to avoid Remus' damned sixth sense.

Sirius' large hand at the small of her back was enough to shake Hermione from whatever spell he had cast over her. Blinking numbly, with frown creasing between her brows, she allowed James to pull her away.

Sirius turned before she could read his strange expression better.

"Don't think you're getting away so easily!" Padfoot's usual bravado had returned as he embraced the mate who was closer to him than a brother would ever be.

While James laughed and called his best mate a string of names, Remus smiled softly over to Hermione. Their eyes met and whatever mysteries Remus had been seeking that James denied, Hermione nonverbally offered to him.

"Glad to find you both alive and well Miss Dumbledore," he said while wrapping his arm around her shoulders and sliding round to give his two trouble inviting best mates their own reunion. In spite of the ease of his tone and embrace, Hermione saw the worry and trepidation in his amber eyes. She knew that Remus, for some unexplained reason, saw through their lies easily. For his own reasons, however, he was going to keep quiet. Perhaps so as not to upset Sirius any further.

Oddly enough, James tossed out jokes that fell flat because Sirius never turned to meet his eye and only muttered low to himself. So James Potter took to twiddling his thumbs and readjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. His fingers itched to snatch his Witch away and no one but Wormtail missed this.

"Me too, Remus." Hermione finally replied with a smile, only to be tugged almost instantly away by James.

The Marauders were helpless to watch the pair flee to James's room, unable to do anything but accept their quickly mumbled excuses.

"It's been too long of a day to talk about it now mates. I'll hear enough tomorrow when my duties come back to bite me in my hooky playing arse, yeah? I solemnly swear you can torture the answers out of Mione instead."

"Wha-?" Her protest was drowned when the door snapped shut securely behind them. And the moment they were inside James' many wards, she jerked from his grasp. Setting hands on her hips, she shouted, "Just what was all that about, James Potter?"

Only pausing to send her a frustrated frown, James took not time in shedding his robe and throwing his filthy shirt aside.

Hermione was painfully and instantly reminded of the source of his most recent bullshit.

Discolored whelps spotted his back and chest, bold beneath a layer of dried blood. James groaned as he flung his bloodied shirt aside and held himself up by the post of his bed. "_Shit,_ that hurts…"

"James!" Hermione let her cloak drop instantly and ignored the tattered state of her silver dress as she rushed to meet him. Delicately she ran her fingers over his mottled skin and flinched at his hiss. "Oh darling…I thought Aberforth healed you? So this is why Remus was giving us those looks…" Her frown deepened when he twisted his head and revealed his senseless grin. "Are you seriously laughing at this?"

"You called me _darling_…I think we're making definite progress."

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed. "Lie down so I can get a better look at these…I'm no mediwitch but maybe…sweet Salazar, _what_?!"

James was shaking with repressed laughter, fighting his pain and humor all at once. "This just keeps getting better and better that's all. Mione, I'll _gladly_ lie down for you. You want top or bottom first, love? Though must admit, I won't have the stamina I normally would. You'll have to be on top, I'm afraid."

Shaking her wand at him in place of a slap of her fingers, she rushed him. "James Potter!"

Laughing weakly, he darted aside to escape and fell back on the bed.

Hermione crawled up on the mattress after him, until she straddled his waist.

"I give up! Oh good Godric, _please_ let my sweetest fantasy come true!" James prayed, pressing his palms together dramatically eyes shining in spite of everything they had just been through.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh. "You git!" When he only grinned cheekily and set his hands on her hips, she slapped them away with a sniff.

"I think," she began, "after the date we just had we should abstain from all physical privileges until you've earned it."

It was everything she could do to keep from smiling and his knowing crooked grin wasn't making things easier. Because he put his hands right back where they had been and both realized exactly what position they were in.

Clearing her throat, Hermione gripped her wand and hesitated the moment she felt the stain of darkness surrounding it. A wand never forgets the curses it has cast, or the intent of its owner's magic. After quickly casting a cleansing charm to rid the blood from his skin, she paused.

Biting her lip, she set the ancient wood to the side and eyes flickering to his once more, she placed her hands on the bare, hard planes of his chest. Despite his bruising, no one could deny James Potter was breathtakingly beautiful as he was rough in feature.

As she had before, Hermione couldn't help but compare him to Sirius' aristocratic beauty. Unlike James, something about Sirius's personality was unhinged, as if his whole life was tied together with a few threads. It wouldn't take much for those strings to snap…

''_I can't stand to lose either of you."_

Hermione ignored the moment that had passed between them in the head common room and focused on the wizard who saved her life instead. Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she didn't realize how her every touch, her every look was driving the boy beneath her, mad.

His grip on her hips increased and he couldn't help but to press into her just a hair closer. The friction felt so good compared to their shatty day.

Hermione shut her eyes to concentrate on the chaotic flow of her magic. Once more, the ancient weaves had pieced the curse round her mind and her natural magic together again, only stronger this time, the binding closer to completion. She felt for the abrasions in his flesh, saw the fresh mends of Aberforth's white magic and just how damaged James had truly been. The knowledge struck her, once again, deep and at her darkest hidden fears.

_How easily could I lose him forever?_

Determined not to fail, Hermione poured her injuries in laying over, mending, smoothing over, healing and gasped when James's hands on her cheeks woke her.

"Hermione?" Concern threaded his husky voice.

Blinking past the temporary blur, Hermione looked down and found his chest perfect once again, though she was unable to do anything about the scars dark magic had permanently rendered. These she immediately traced with her fingers, felt the aftermath of her own magic tingle and caress her before it too faded.

Tears blurred her vision and rather than try to wipe them away as she half expected he would, James let them fall. Instead of stifling her sobs, he pulled her over his chest.

And as she sobbed, he didn't hold the tears back that leaked from the corners of _his_ eyes. He was strength when she needed it most, silently as only they could know to comfort one another.

Afterwards, just on the cusp of dreamless sleep, they discussed how to throw the dark off their scent.

Hermione decided it imperative for her to put on a fresh mask for Slytherin, worried more than ever they would search into her past too deeply and would know she fought against their friends, family. She had killed two Death Eaters this night. For all she knew, their children could be her own house mates.

James was silent throughout. The first Gala event was weeks away, but eyes would be drawn to them now more than ever. No one could know what they had done in Hogsmeade today. Knowing the students they rescued, it would be a miracle if they didn't already have several versions of the truth floating around the castle.

"I have to be the Pureblood bitch, more than ever now," she insisted. "We can't openly date, James. With _You-Know-Who_ out for us…we can't tell Sirius or the boys."

"Why not Padfoot at least, Mione, if they're going to help us…"

"Dragging them into a deeper war with Slytherin isn't want we want, James. If the time comes when we have no other choice, we can tell them the truth. But no one can ever know we killed those men tonight or who we saw…and nothing about Aberforth. Somehow I must agree with him. I don't think Uncle would be keen on knowing we've met."

__Defeated and utterly hopeless silence followed her declaration.

"James? What do you think? This really is for the best don't you see?"

"Yeah…I see love."


	26. II: hidden wounds

**A/N:** _Okay, okay, all you pushy people ;) j/k You know I love you all! Seriously though, here's the next chapter! Hope you enjoy it and that it satisfies your ADSM withdrawals ;p_

* * *

**PART 2: Hogwarts**

* * *

**Chapter 26**

**hidden wounds**

* * *

Hogwarts had long held in tradition as the first host of the Gala "coming out" event for Purebloods. And though no one less than Half Blood ever attended the high galleon affair and the families' paychecks were so lucrative, not even the Prophet dared to post about it, everyone longed to become one of the elite. Much like Slughorn's _Slug Club_, more than beautiful and handsome faces would be paraded. Alliances were made, lines were drawn into the sand and futures were made in a single night.

Halloween came and went with a festival rather than a feast and heralded the preparation for the very first of many Gala events of the season. While the rest of the students slept, the first event took place in a transformed Great Hall, charmed into something unlike anything else they had known.

It was simple affair, catering to the students more than anyone. With only the chaperons being the Heads and their Prefects, the students were allowed greater freedom. Hermione met James at the bottom of the stairs just before the entrance of the Great Hall and fought against an odd sense of déjà vu.

She nervously twisted the ring James had given her and winced at his stony features as he escorted her inside. She and James sat at the circular table with the others and they began quite the mild party. Sirius had managed to weasel his way out of this affair, off with Wormtail to sabotage the Snakes' dungeon home no doubt.

And so they ate delicacies from around the world, they listened to music and drank Elderberry wine and danced. And as the night wore on into morning, they finally loosened up enough to dare one another into stupid wand tricks.

Hermione's bushy hair was singed into its natural chaotic mess thanks to Crabbe's fireworks display. Her mood was bitter and broken when, as they had agreed, James escorted her to the dungeons and kissed her cheek goodnight.

She tried to tell herself this was for the best, for them and everyone. They needed to make everyone think he was only escorting her out of obligation. They couldn't afford any slip ups.

Most students not involved with the Pureblood affair were still shaken up from their dance with death in Hogsmeade. Surprisingly it was found, though the Death Eaters counted the loss of six men, none of the students suffered from anything worse than Pomfrey and Slughorn's stores could cure.

Classes resumed a semblance of normality after the Headmaster attempted to reassure his students. Yet a Ravenclaw who had been subjected to bullying before this, mysteriously pulled out of their last year. Owls carried in more copies of the Daily Prophet than ever before and eyes were peeled just as much outward as inward now.

Those who had laughed before at his vehemence for politics, now noted that James Potter, Head Boy was becoming a natural leader. Especially to a select group of Muggle-tied students who all claimed the same outlandish story. In their eyes, James Potter and Hermione Dumbledore had forever earned their loyalty.

Meanwhile, Lily Evans, Head Girl, did her duties, supervised the planning of events and Prefect cooperation. She no longer disappeared during her free periods but threw herself further into trying to reclaim her top marks. The tentative reparation of her friendship with Alice Greengrass began yet many noted her shadowed emerald eyes and the obvious strain between her and Severus Snape during their shared classes.

Anyone besides a Slytherin would believe Hermione Dumbledore was the reason for Lily's trouble. Popular theory was that Lily had finally wizened up about James Potter all too late. It was clear to see he was dead gone over the Dumbledore heiress. Now James Potter barely gave Evans the time of day and though they loved their Head Boy to a fault, some began to see glimpses of the sweet tempered loving Witch they had admired since her first year.

Because Lily Evans _did _understand James and Hermione's star-crossed romance better than anyone suspected, she learned how to hold her tongue. And more heads than Hermione Dumbledore's turned the morning _Lily Evans_ pulled her aside for a hallway chat.

Gryffindor and Slytherin had by this point learned to ignore one another, for the greater good as much as anything. At least on the surface, Hermione was unaware of the hidden war going on beneath all their noses.

Hermione carried her satchel tightly in front of her, part of her secret shield against the constant eyes that followed her wherever she went. Though many of her school mates had become something akin to acquaintances over the last two months, she trusted less than a handful.

And ever since the evening they defied the Dark Lord together, something bitter and hard resurfaced she had almost learned to forget. As if a piece of herself had died before she could remember and her old self never had the chance to fully grieve the loss. Hermione knew she had been fighting in the War before James found her in Godric's Hollow. That much was obvious. From the moment she awoke to his crooked grin and bespectacled hazel eyes, it had been easy to ignore the pain in favor of the life James gave her.

_A life I don't deserve…_ she reminded herself as she clutched her bag tighter. When she loaded it with her extra _light reading_ earlier that morning, she'd unconsciously lightened and extended the bag with the fresh magic pulsing through her.

She nodded politely, with just the right amount of cool severity to her fellow House mates. They bowed their heads in reply, deeper depending on their blood and financial status.

"_It is a shallow world we live in, but to those born to it, it is all we have Hermione."_ Dorea had tried to prepare her for the role Uncle Albus and she invented. Only now was Hermione beginning to understand what Desdemona annoyingly preached.

"_You must choose carefully your inner circle, Hermione. Not everyone is as forgiving as the Potters."_ Mona's lightly textured voice echoed her thoughts.

She wasn't ready. She wasn't ready to lose the four boys who were _everything _to her. Day by day, ever since the night she and James saved and took lives, the night they nearly lost each other…

_Stop it Dumbledore. Get a grip on yourself. You were the one who suggested it. _

Hermione scowled at nothing but herself. Several younger students shied away from that look they had seen more often than not of late however. Everyone knew that Miss Dumbledore had nearly hexed the balls off Scamander and Selwyn before, and that was only _one_ example of her temper. And because most of Slytherin despised Scamander and Selwyn as much as Hermione did, they were inclined to forgive the fact she was defending a _Mudblood_.

It pained Hermione she had not talked to her Muggleborn friends as much the past weeks. Almost as much as it pained her to see the Marauders across the Great Hall and between classes and barely talk to them. Yet not a fraction as much as it ruined her not to touch James every time their bond tugged at them to close the necessary distance.

James Potter's eyes were something Hermione steadfastly avoided during their shared Astronomy lectures, DADA practicum and Transfiguration "torture" sessions. Astronomy was the worst because before he had always walked her back to her dungeon before beginning his rounds. Now she walked alone and occasionally stared suspiciously at the rustle of fabric that followed her most nights. Even if he were using his cloak to follow her, Hermione couldn't berate him for not being more careful.

"_We have to make them believe we're escorts only. The more we associate the more attention we'll bring to ourselves." _Those were her words to James Potter the last night, they slept for the first time in one another's arms. She'd ignored Mona's pointed looks and MacBeth's giggles the following morning. They could imagine whatever they wanted to, Hermione would never tell.

Hermione dreaded Arithmancy, the class she was currently taking the longer route to avoid _him_, tried to push her Uncle's passing words that morning out of her head.

_So what if I look a bit peaky? With N.E.W.T.s coming up who wouldn't? Not to mention the trouble __**they **__give me._

She was of course referring to the brothers Black, also known as _most-annoying-pureblooded-gits-of-all-time. _Ironically enough, it was those two, not the lovesick and magic addled Potter giving her the most trouble of late. Then again she wasn't as surprised as she should have been.

Regulus had always watched her too closely, ever since the day they met in Diagon Alley. And Sirius was not taking her fresh Slytherin act well _at all_.

Uncle Albus was pleased to see she was mingling better with her fellow students. But he was suspicious of what happened the day of the Hogsmeade attack. Hermione still hadn't the heart to tell him exactly what happened. She wondered if Aberforth had told him after all, in spite of the younger brother's caution. During her last visit to Hog's Head, she thought she caught the younger of the two brothers writing to someone about _her_. With Aberforth, Hermione learned though he may be predictable in his gruffer stubborn manner, he was just as unpredictable as the Headmaster.

_Family trait, that…_ she often mused.

Whether Uncle Albus knew what really happened that day in Diagon Alley or not, he asked entirely too many questions about James for her liking. Not that she _hadn't _noticed the change in him just as keenly, or felt the weight of the words sealed in the letter in her pocket.

Dorea hadn't heard much from her only son of late. Her words seared through Hermione, but she didn't know how to fulfill them.

So lost to her thoughts she was, wishing she could rush to the Owlery now instead of waiting till her break before dinner, she nearly ran smack into the one Witch she had never spoken a word to before.

A flurry of scarlet hair clashed with dark, bushy caramel and both girls stopped short of each other. Hermione, wide eyed tilted her head to meet the taller girls' startling emerald gaze and realized Lily Evans had run into her _on purpose_.

Because heads were already turned their way as they passed by the pair and no doubt the third year Hufflepuffs nearby were hoping for a good cat squall.

Instead, Hermione saw the dark circles under Lily's flawless complexion and noticed the way she sucked in her inner lip, eyes searching nervously.

She began without warning, "Hello Hermione."

The Slytherin girl could only nod.

"Ah…" she shifted from one foot to the other. "I just wanted to let you know that…that I'm sorry for not talking to you before."

Hermione was dumbstruck. The third year Hufflepuffs sighed sadly at the meek greeting. No fights to be had today after all.

"Don't worry about it." Hermione offered. Lily frowned and once more Hermione was struck by how genuinely beautiful the Witch was and wondered why those eyes tugged at her buried memory so painfully.

"No, you don't understand. I'm Head Girl! I-I ought to have welcomed you like I would any new student. It's just that…"

_James_…Hermione ached at even the thought of his name, avoided the temptation to tug at their bond just to call him to her. She offered as good a smile as she could manage.

Lily pressed on with Gryffindor courage. "I'm sorry for not understanding. Not that I could exactly you see, but I've come to realize, after what happened in Hogsmeade especially, well—you're a good person. A better person than I gave you credit for…"

"You honestly don't have to…" Hermione trailed off at Lily's raised hand and knowing grin.

"Yes I do. I've known Potter for seven years and never understood him. But…" Here she frowned and Hermione held her breath, "you get him. And he needs you." Pain filled emerald eyes found the resolve to finish what they had started.

Hermione recognized that pain and instinctively knew it didn't have anything to do with James. She immediately thought instead of the sallow faced boy on the Hogwarts Express, the boy who sat beside Lily in Potions and during every Quidditch match. And she realized Lily Evans really did understand.

Something clicked into place then, both girls saw and recognized and forever after held an unspoken respect for the other.

"Just do me one favor would you?" Lily finally said with an anxious shift of her eyes. "Do whatever you have to protect him. But don't shut him out much longer or you'll ruin him far worse than I ever did…"

"I promise," she answered, simply because something about Evans made her want to do the right thing. A faint smile crept onto her controlled features then.

_Bloody Gryffindors…_

Ever after that day Hermione and Lily acknowledged one another in corridor and classroom, to the amazement of everyone else.

* * *

The day Evans confronted Dumbledore on a Monday morn before first period, Sirius Black had also decided to do something about Hermione's Pureblood bitch act. James hadn't said anything, but Sirius just _knew_ something had happened, ever since they showed up late that first Hogsmeade day. The Marauders refused to leave their best mate alone that night, even if he acted like a git and kept everything to himself after. Sirius was outraged that Hermione tried to creep past their sprawled forms just before sunrise, before James even woke up, he'd wager. She hadn't told him what happened that night either which wounded him just as deep as Prongs' silence.

Oh sure, Prongs laughed at the rumors flying round about him and Hermione risking their lives to take on Death Eaters!

"_Do you really believe I'd put Mione in danger like that Padfoot?"_

Pete laughed along with him, none the wiser thanks to the memory of Firewhisky. Moony, predictably, took James' side and never tried to argue different. When it was clear their best mates were hiding something from _everyone_.

"Danger my arse…" he grumbled and ran a hand through his chin length hair. Sirius felt his anger mount higher, clenched his fists and paced in front of the classroom everyone else had yet to fill. Once upon a time he would have come early to snatch a decent snog to start off his day. Before the day he wondered whether or not he'd ever see Hermione Dumbledore again, Sirius had a policy of dating a Witch a week if possible.

Now he was too busy plotting revenge on his brother's House, _since they obviously set us up, bastards, _trying to keep James' spirits up.

_Won't even start talking about how much money I lost thanks to that damned Quidditch match! _

James had flown with the same skill but greater aggressiveness and acted out of anger instead of heart. Another reason for Sirius to figure out why Hermione was avoiding them, since she was clearly the reason for his shoddy performance last Saturday.

Sure she sat with him in Arithmancy and between him and James in Transfiguration, but she spoke even less than she had before. And nothing irked him more than watching her use the bitch act Mummy P taught her.

"I knew I should never have let her go for tea with the Dragon…" He seethed more growl than grumble. The nearby portrait of an elderly Wizard woke from his nap to stare curiously down at him.

"My dear boy…it never will end well for you if you let others _hear_ you speak to yourself!" The portrait exclaimed and received a wild eye from the mentally and sexually frustrated Black.

"Piss off, mate! This isn't a two way conversation!"

"Obviously not!" The portrait grasped his outdated cap in hand and straightened it. "Which is my point, lad…if you'd only…"

"Would you shove it and let me get think old man?" Sirius shook his fists and froze at the cool laughter that erupted behind him. Both portrait and Black twisted their necks to find the amused Witch behind. Sirius stared at her a moment, surprised to see a glimpse of the amber eyed beauty he had been drawn to, instead of the bitch he half expected.

"Talking to yourself again are you?" She managed between giggles, bag shaking with each jerk of her chest.

"H-Hermione!" he could only dumbly exclaim.

The portrait grumbled to itself, "Witches driving decent Wizards to madness…hmph!"

Sirius leaned back and smothered the portrait, shoved his hands in his robe pockets and adopted what he thought was a more confident attitude. "What's a Witch like you doing in a castle like _this_?" All thoughts of his intervention were lost. She had erased everything with one glimpse of her smile. It was so rare these last weeks he was willing to do anything to keep it there. Even follow behind her into the empty classroom like the dog he sometimes was.

They spent the minutes before the young Professor Vector's entrance, laughing over his conversation with a portrait and insanity in general. His exuberance made her smile stick. As the first flux of students slowly entered, he set a sticking charm to every other seat in the room but theirs.

"Sirius you can't!" her smile faded as she hissed.

He didn't fail to notice a touch of distance returned to her eyes the moment the others came in.

His silver eyes gleamed. "Oh but I can. love. Because it's making you smile for the first time in weeks. If that's what it takes, I'll do worse than that before the term's ended." He laughed when she couldn't fight the smile capturing her lips again.

She pretended to be angry with him the rest of Vector's lecture over their essays on the significance of the numbers three, seven and forty. Deep inside Hermione relished the rare moment to be normal with Sirius Black and not be forced into another argument. Deeper still, she couldn't shake Lily Evans' words out of her mind, added to Dorea's latest charge in her letter.

Sirius passed her notes filled with the usual quasi dirty humor, as he tried to break her false mask. He succeeded when Vector dismissed them and a loud resounding **RIP **preceded a dozen cries of outrage.

Sirius and Hermione practically raced from the class together in stiches. And for a time, they could forget the roles they were trying to play.

* * *

After Hermione delivered her letter to Dorea Potter, via James' owl Mercury, she avoided supper in the Great Hall in favor of the grounds below. Narrowly avoiding Desdemona's entourage coming the opposite direction, and Filch seconds after chasing a scaly Mrs. Norris, she wouldn't have been surprised to run into the Marauders next. They were always lurking about the halls it seemed, whether en route to their next prank or avoiding capture.

Sure enough, in the distance, Filch's voice could be heard exclaiming, "Filthy misbegotten wretches! Turn Mrs. Norris' fur back before I hang ye up by the wrists and put ye on the rack!"

Remus's laughter could clearly be heard beneath the invisibility cloak.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione tucked her cloak tightly round her and muffled the creak of the front doors with a whisper. She tried to tell herself she would much rather go for tea with Hagrid than run for her life with the Marauders.

_They'll be caught and serve at least two detentions…_

At least they weren't pranking Slytherin this time. After Slytherin beat Ravenclaw the other day, Hermione heard more than one offhanded comment about Black and Potter. Hermione had effectively squashed any rumors flying around about her and James, thanks to Desdemona. Though she couldn't shake Mona's words from her mind and wondered if she shouldn't after all follow through, _for James._

The wind tugged at the hood of her cloak, howled like a wild bitter thing around her, angrily nipped at her skin. Gritting her teeth to keep them from chattering, she raced down the edge of the slope, towards the smoking shack and winking lantern light.

She hadn't been to see Hagrid very much since the last time she and James visited.

_Too many hours spent kissing up to my fake friends…_

She was at a low point. Dorea's letter pointed this out. The elder Witch knew she was about to crack, warned against the consequences if she did. Playing the part wasn't Hermione's forte. She was a shitty actress. The only way to pull it off was to believe it herself and speak everything in double. This on top of everything else was simply exhausting.

Giving into Sirius earlier had only reminded her of the things she was giving up. But the war affected everyone's lives. It wasn't nearly as bad as it was about to become, James said. Hermione believed they didn't have much time left to enjoy this peace. Soon they would be out there too, in the thick of it. And she knew which side she was already on. The question was which side would she have to play?

When it began to rain, Hermione officially cursed her ill luck. Each gust of wind rocked her on her feet so she narrowly missed falling into the mud. Flinging herself the rest of the way to Hagrid's front door, she pressed her hands to the wood and kicked it hard as she could.

Hagrid could be a little hard of hearing during thunderstorms.

When no one answered, Hermione wondered if he had fallen asleep playing his harmonica again. He still had yet to tell her how he acquired the Muggle instrument.

She never had the chance to open the door and find out. For the moment she twisted the handle and pushed it gave way too easily. Swinging back on its hinges Hermione was forced to let go and with a shriek, fell into the tall figure attempting to exit.

Her face was pressed into something hard and warm and surprisingly muscular. Hagrid was strong but he was something of a disguised creature of strength. Not compact hard muscle like this. And a pair of strong arms supported her easily, slipping beneath hers and molding to her curves as if they'd done so a thousand times.

"Hermione?" His voice was rougher, as it had grown of late. His eyes behind his glasses were shadowed but surprise had stolen his sorrow. For the first time since the first Gala event, Hermione was forced to look James Potter in the eye and wanted to bury herself into him. For a moment she forgot they were standing partly in the rain and warmth of Hagrid's hut.

"Hermione! James, bring 'er inside! Poor tyke looks pale as a ghost! Come in! We just finished our tea but I'll put another pot on. Looks like you could use some too!" Hagrid loved playing the host because he rarely had the opportunity, aside from the Headmaster's infrequent visits. After winking at them both he set himself to his task, chatted about Hippogriffs and how much he wanted one of his own.

James's eyes were dark and clung to shadows. He vehemently kept them from meeting hers while he drew her into his arms and breathed against her neck as he set her down beside the were thrust into a world of their own. As he removed her cloak for her his eyes drank in every hidden curve her uniform masked, lingered where her stockings disappeared into her knee length skirt. His skin accidentally brushed against hers more than necessary, and the unseen threads linking them shivered.

Hagrid took the wet garment in his hands and hung it before the roaring flames. Already heat was returning to Hermione's limbs but it wasn't because of the fire. Though James had gone to crouch over a suspiciously active box in the corner, his eyes constantly lifted to graze over her.

"Would be the delight of my life to tame a Hungarian Horntail! Dragons just need a bit more love that's all. Would have acted much differently to Muggles if they'd only tried to understand them…don't you think Hermione?"

Blinking through the high of being near him again, she was slow to answer. "Wh-what? Sorry Hagrid, I'm afraid I've been a bit preoccupied."

"Aw that's all right. Here, this will put the kick back into yer step." Stepping back to watch her down his concoction, Hermione was cheered by the warmth in Hagrid's eyes. He never looked on anyone with judgment in his eyes, never wondered over their blood status. And the other reason Hermione wished she had been to see Hagrid more lately, he immediately recognized what he saw. The tenderness in his eyes was something she hadn't seen in such a long time, the kind of unaltered affection she didn't remember.

"Now what's this? What's these tears I see?" He handed his blanket of a hankie.

Hermione blushed, embarrassed. "I'm sorry…I'm just tired I guess…"

James' eyes narrowed at her but still he said nothing.

Hagrid had the talent of knowing better while pretending not to. "Well…long as you don't let anyone bully you Hermione. Kids yer age can be uncommon ugly to one another if the mood suits em. Trick is, to always keep _them_ on their toes." He tapped his nose then and winked at her.

"Like a harpy," she offered, remembering his last _lesson_ on bullies.

"Exactly!" He sat down into his chair and picked up his neglected pipe again. "Now for instance, you two. It's been ages since the two of ye made a visit, and here ye both come in the same night. Highly unpredictable! I'd have never guessed."

Hermione winced. "Yes, I'm sorry I've been busy…"

James scoffed. "You aren't the only one who's getting the cold shoulder, mate." Done calming down Hagrid's newest pet, his eyes found hers with a fresh vengeance.

Hagrid didn't appear to hear James, for the clock decided to chime the time immediately after. "Oh! Merlin's Beard! What are you two still doing here? Don't want to get me in trouble with yer Uncle, do you Mione?"

Hermione tried to ignore the look in the Head Boy's amber flecked eyes. "If anyone should worry about being late I believe its Mr. Potter," she said loftily.

Hagrid chuckled. "Wouldn't be the first time…Run along you two and don't be strangers now, ye hear?"

James barely waved but Hermione flung her arms impulsively round the half-giant's middle. He sniffed away sudden tears.

"Oh, enough of that now. You'll scare poor Fang over there with me blubbering on like this."

"Thanks for the tea, Hagrid." Hermione didn't turn to see if James was waiting for her. She knew he was because the wind was carrying flecks of sleet into the warm cottage and because James wrapped her firmly in her half dry cloak the moment he could reach her.

The following evening, Hagrid would share tea with the Headmaster. He would excitedly tell him of the visit his niece and Mr. Potter gave him and would give the overburdened Albus Dumbledore much to be hopeful for.

* * *

Meanwhile, Hermione was doing her best to outrun James' long legged stride, determined not to be _escorted _by him no matter what he said. When she slowed, he too slowed. When she sped up, he easily matched her. Until she wrenched her hand from his grasp and twisted to face him at the crest of the hill, beneath the castle shadow.

Sleet stung at their cheeks through their robes, scratched his glass lenses and stole their breath away.

"I don't need an escort James! I can see myself inside!"

"You'd get caught the moment you walked in, the way you carry on!" Huffing a sigh, he tried to twist her back round and growled when she refused. "Why won't you just let me get us _inside_ before you yell at me?"

"I'd rather shout here where Filch won't hear us!" Even in the black of night she could see the telltale clench of his jaw and knew her words were a mistake.

"You mean, where no one will see us?!"

"Of course where no one will see us, you berk!" Stupid Hermione never was good at keeping her mouth shut, she was beginning to recall.

Even standing at the top of the hill, he managed to tower over her. Hermione wondered for the first time whether he preferred it. Did he like the fact she was so much shorter than him, when Lily Evans was clearly so much more proportionate to him in height?

"Fine," he ground finally after an eon of searching the dark for the truth in her eyes. He made no attempt to wait for her then, marched past her and ran against the wind as if he wanted to catch his death of Dragon Pox.

"James!" Hermione tore after him, though not near as gracefully as the Quidditch Chaser. She called out his name and pleaded until his body went rigid just outside the courtyard gates and beneath the arch, surrounded by the pound of rain. She grasped him with her hands.

She realized just how out of shape she was compared to her arrival in Godric's Hollow. Sure, she had been made of malnourished muscle those first weeks and it had taken time for her curves to show again. She at least had been accustomed to life on the run. But her heart pounded so loudly in her chest and her lungs ached now. Ice had beaten her skin raw and she wanted nothing more than a bath and to forget her childish behavior.

She was surprised that the chest heaving beneath her hand was struggling just as much for oxygen and it had nothing to do with his lack of fitness. Heat bristled beneath her palms, skin eager for skin.

His hands reached inside her robes, traveled up her hips and clasped her waist. Their breath mingled together on frigid air. She was dragged forwards and up, until their legs brushed together and her chest grazed his. Their eyes clashed and something snapped in James Potter the closer Hermione Dumbledore drew.

So she was surprised to hear his voice strain just barely above the wind, "You're letting me carry you inside, Hermione. And you're not gonna say a word until I tell you to." He was so close that his lips brushed over hers and no matter what he said, she was ready to agree to anything. He didn't wait for her answer, drew her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing, bridal style.

They entered a way Hermione didn't know of, another one of the Marauder's rediscovered secrets, no doubt. He was right when he mocked her stealth skills. Compared to him, she was an amateur.

Most of the time, James Potter preferred to make as much pomp and circumstance as he was allowed, wherever he went. It was part of his charm and fed the ego that thrived on attention. But he could be silent as death when he wanted to be. Passionate to a fault, everyone knew when James needed to be away from the limelight he loved. Ever since Hogsmeade this need had occurred more and more.

She knew he was taking her to his room. It was the only place they could really be alone and away from prying eyes. Lily Evans wouldn't say anything about it, Hermione knew. Especially now they had an understanding of the others' secret.

Hand still pressed just over his pounding heart, she clung to him, all resolve tossed aside. She was weary from avoiding him, from living a half life. So she closed her eyes and let the ache inside her ease with having him close.

They turned and turned again still and when she opened her eyes James had shifted her and used his free arm to open the door to the Room of Requirement. They came into a room that looked almost a near replica of his bedroom back at Potter Manor, only the bed was much larger, as was the fireplace.

He wasted no time in setting her back on her feet in front of the blazing hearth and hesitated, only a flash of his hazel eyes questioning hers before removing her cloak. Turning to hang it up on the mantelpiece he draped his beside it, then frowned into the flames before shrugging off his outer jumper after. His tie hung loose and he tugged at it roughly.

Hermione bit her lip when he turned to face her again, the green of his iris darker than before.

"No one will see us here." His voice was surprisingly soft, still nowhere near the James she had known those first days in Godric's Hollow. He tried to pull off the tie without thinking and grumbled when his glasses got in the way. She reached to remove them, cast a silent _**reparo**_ and felt the magic slide easily through her fingertips.

"James, I…"

"_Wait_." He interrupted, covering her hands that held his glasses, taking them easily away and setting them on top of the mantle. "It's not your turn yet."

Frustration boiled over then. She wasn't keen on any man telling her what she could and couldn't do. At least, she thought she wasn't. The way James's voice deepened when he did it was doing deliciously naughty things to her. Still she protested the way his thumbs drew constant circles over her skin.

"James Merlin Potter!" Her eyes flickered up in time to see his wicked grin and the desperation in his own.

"I _hate_ it when people use my middle name…"

She couldn't help the stab of Slytherin glee at his admission. "I know."

Hermione gasped when his hands lifted and crushed her to him, their lips locking in a frenzied battle. Her moan only drove his madness further. The bond slithered up their skin and tugged at the deepest regions of desire in their souls. Transcending physical, it felt as if with each stroke of his lips on hers, their souls brushed together as well.

His fingers gripped her ass painfully as she wrapped her legs round his waist and dug her heels deeper, dragging her center over the growing bulge in his pants. They both shook and groaned at the tight friction.

James kicked off his shoes the same time she did hers. His legs nearly gave out when she dragged herself over his building erection again, setting a liquid rhythm that was driving him mad.

Twisting her round the fireplace, James pressed her roughly to the wall, thrust his hips up slightly, enough to make her cry out with surprise. His lips sucked on her neck until it was almost painful, swirled his tongue over each mark and trailed lower, then slid his hands beneath her hitched skirt and grazed his thumbs over her inner thighs.

Hermione gasped and tried to urge his hands closer, to what end she couldn't remember whether or not she knew. Whatever her past experience, with James it would always be _new_.

Heavy lidded, she ran her hands through his wet hair, caressed his scalp and elicited a pained groan from somewhere between her breasts. Somehow he'd managed to push the buttoned garment lower than should be possible with only his teeth.

Hermione had no trouble in helping him along then and tried to reach between them. She moaned when his thumb brushed the lacy underwear hidden above her thigh-high stockings.

After grazing her clit, James lifted his head and groaned against her lips, "_Fuck, _you're so wet…"

The blend of lust and pleasure behind his words bolted straight down through her core. "James!" she gasped as he dragged his thumb again over her, was silenced when he thrust his tongue between her lips and dragged it over hers. When he pulled away, his eyes were so dark a green they were nearly black, dilated almost completely to the rims of his iris.

Breathlessly he groaned, "Still not your turn, love."

_So this is why the female half of Hogwarts hates me so much…_ she silently mused as she writhed against his hand and moaned the loss when he shifted his hands back up her arse. Bitterly, she wondered how many other Witches he had touched this way, how many others had taught him what he seemed to know to do by instinct.

Flinging her head back against the wall, she let him bury his face in the column of her white neck. His tongue caressed the beginning of the scar on her shoulder, arms wrapped round her back and let her sink back against his painful erection. He gasped heavily against her bare skin.

She shivered to feel his lips caress as he spoke, "Want you so much Mione…can't wait love! Please say yes…"

Even with her hips undulating wantonly over him, seeking the best friction, Hermione hesitated. She didn't want to say no to him anymore either. Not that he had asked her before, not that they had ever discussed exactly _what_ this passion between them was in the first place…

Sensing her hesitation, James lifted his chin until she could see the depths in his eyes and fear he didn't bother to conceal behind them. He wanted to take her then and there, wanted to ease the pain he felt each day watching her, unable to touch what he instinctively knew was already his. He wanted her to be driven as mad as he was every time their fingertips accidentally brushed in passing, to the point of pain. On a deeper level, he wanted to melt that frigid mask she wore every day. He was so damned afraid if he didn't make her _feel_ it would cease to be a mask one day.

The thought of losing the thing most essential above all other things to James Merlin Potter, was what made him fight his rising urgency. It made him slide one hand to support her ass, never ceasing to lightly thrust his evident desire along her wet core. He used his other hand to tangle into her wet curls, draw her closer to seduce her with his lips and his tongue.

Frozen, she refused to respond to his kisses. So he dragged his fingers back down her back, reached to the buttons of her shirt and began to undo them. Her skin was softer than he remembered, her breasts full in his hand as he cupped one and rubbed his thumb lightly over her already hard nipple. He longed to tug aside the silk fabric of her bra, but grinned to feel her chest rising and fall even faster, her hips dig into his tighter. He nearly lost control when she dragged her teeth lightly over his lower lip and followed with her tongue.

Their eyes fused together, warm and burning with things beyond knowing.

And then she moved her hands from his neck and shrugged out of her blouse, returned to his neck. His eyes widened when she drew his lips to hers. Her kisses were something new, desperate and savoring.

He ran his hands over the textured skin of her chest, her back, caressing the scars that reminded him again how close to death she was when he found her. If he had never met her…if he had been too late…

James felt his emotions spiraling out of control. He had always been the more sensitive of the four Marauders, always more passionate, more headstrong and fierce in the things he loved. He was about ready to consume his Witch and allow himself to be consumed when she surprised him once again.

Her lips moved from his to his cheek, his jaw and against his ear she whispered, unable to keep the desire from her voice, "_Yes."_

Their first time together was nothing special. It wasn't filled with half a dozen mind blowing orgasms or, for James, the miraculous endurance of a man in his prime.

He hitched up her skirt until it was bunched around her waist and somehow managed to carry her to the room's replica of his bed.

Her stocking covered legs spread wide, braced on her elbows as she watched him with red lips, breasts trembling with each gasping breath was the most beautiful sight James had ever seen. He tore aside his belt and his own shirt, didn't bother to care about his socks once his briefs were tugged down by Hermione's eager hands and his cock now level to her lips.

For one painfully long moment, James watched one of his fantasies flesh out as they watched one another with love filled eyes. He froze when her hands came to slide up the well defined muscle of his abdomen and rest on his hips. It was everything he could do not to fist her hair in his hand when she licked her lips and determination flashing in her eyes, opened her mouth.

James moaned her name when an impossible wet heat surrounded the head of his member, bucked when her tongue dragged along his pre-cum covered slit. Afraid to grasp her head, lest he hurt her, he grasped his own hair and fought with everything he had not to pound into her moist cavern. When she began to lightly suck, he worried he wouldn't last long enough to enter her cunt like he dreamed of.

"H-Hermione…love I can't…" he gasped when she took him deeper into her mouth, as far as she could go. James' eyes fluttered to the back of his head, his cock filled even tighter if it possible, leaked further when she relaxed her throat and at last began to suck again, dragging her lips as she pulled out and took him in again.

She wasn't an expert at this by any means. It was one of the many things filed away in her photographic academic mind. Hermione didn't know she had only done this once before, many years before with a Bulgarian Quidditch player and kept it a secret between the two of them. She recalled no desire to do anything close to this with anyone other than James. But the moment she first noticed his desire for her, the day they first met in Potter Manor and he caught her half naked, she wanted _all_ of him.

And because she was his Mione, every little thing she did sent James nearly over the edge and back again.

He regained enough sense between moans, to at last grasp a fistful of her wild curls, try to warn her before he came into her mouth. And in James' fantasies, much as he wanted her lips and tongue swirling around his engorged cock, he wanted to come _in _her first.

Pulling out of her mouth was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do, harder still when she began to follow. But with a desperate grip he lifted her arms and thrust her back onto the mattress, crawled between her legs and grinned when she giggled at his eagerness.

Squeezing his eyes shut to find one last measure of restraint, he hovered over her lips, his cock pressing against her liquid heat. She gasped at the contact, rose to meet his lips and both of them groaned as he tasted himself on her.

_Definitely have to repay her for that…or finish what she started, or both in quick successions…_ he thought briefly before he no longer could. Because she lifted her hips off the mattress then, stocking clad feet wrapping round his torso and digging into his ass and reaching between them, clasping his thick erection, she guided him into her.

"_Fuck!_" he swore as he angled roughly into her, unable to be gentle for fear he'd lose himself too quickly. Hermione's cry as he pushed past her barrier was followed by his own groan of shock.

_She's a virgin…_ he thought with a blend of terror and possessive pride. She was his in every way…

Rather than stopping as he normally would have with other girls, James' eyes widened further when she sheathed him _completely_.

"_Oh fuck…_" He swore again helplessly when her walls convulsed tightly around him, struggling to adjust to his length and thickness. He wasn't as thick as some bints preferred. But he was _hung like a horse_ as Padfoot joked with him. And he had never in his limited years of experience found a Witch that could fill all of him. Having Hermione's hips pressed to his own was _fucking amazing, o_verwhelming, to the point he barely remembered to reach down and stroke her swollen nub again with his thumb, to ease her pain.

But the bond between them far outstretched any pain she would have normally felt. She was already too wet, too deeply tied to him to feel anything but painful pleasure. Her cry was followed by a desperate thrusting of her hips as she pulled back and then desperately up, skin smacking against skin.

James groaned, "So perfect—Mione! Oh _fuck_ yes!" His hands were on her hips, helping set the rhythm that gave them the best angle.

She was gasping, struggling to keep silent and braced her hands on the bulging muscle of his arms. Eyes wide and locked onto his, she knew the way his ebony hair half stuck in the air, half in his hazel orbs, the lust and wonder in his face was something she could never forget, no matter what curse stole all else from her.

Her breasts threatened to escape their confines each time he pulled nearly out and thrust back again. Her hips were rising to meet him. They both moaned together, in time with the beating of their hearts and the graze of their souls tied together with elder magic. Sweat coated their bodies, their contrasting Gryffindor and Slytherin ties brushed across Hermione's chest and added to the overpowering sensations.

Foreheads pressed together, he wrapped his arms around her and she rose to meet him at the same time. Sitting back on his knees, her heels now pressed into the mattress, chests brushing together, they moved faster.

"_James_…" she gasped at the new angle. His cock was brushing against some place deep inside of her. It only took two more thrusts. She screamed as wave upon wave crested inside of her and threatened to burst out. Digging her nails into his back, she pressed her forehead to his and her walls squeezed mercilessly at his cock until both of them shook.

James let out a deep groan as the last of her orgasm ripped through her. Amazed he lasted even this long, he gave in at last and burst within her as she dug her hips painfully into his. And then they were trembling, unable to remember where one began and the other ended.

Her magic covered them both and James groaned at the double wave of pleasure as it caressed his own. Their lips came together desperately. And had they not given everything into their first exploration of each other, they might have easily tried again.

When James attempted to pull his flaccid member out Hermione's legs tightened again round his waist and she dragged her tongue against his, trembled from exhaustion. "No…" she said. "I want you here as long as I can have you."

He grinned against her mouth, turned to lie on his back and welcomed the way her small frame molded to his perfectly. "Randy little Witch."

But the light in his eyes, still glowing with the peak of their passion made her smile. "You're the one who couldn't wait any longer," she said.

"Yeah…" When the light in his eyes dimmed, she frowned and then he said, "Hermione, I'm sorry I didn't try to make it more special. You don't know how many times I've dreamed about this. I'd planned all sorts of ways to get you into my bed you know, none of them like this. Okay well maybe some."

Rolling her eyes, she said, "James Merlin Potter, don't you dare regret this. It's my fault in a way I suppose. I never meant for us to stop being close completely. It's been killing me too, you know."

James' grin made the admission worth it. He kissed her fully and she felt the first stirring of renewed passion at the caress. Ever bright, he laughed finally when she tried to come for more.

"Brilliant! I was starting to wonder if you really did feel it as badly as I have. You've driven me bonkers Witch. I had to stay away from you after a while to keep from doing something stupid." He thought for a moment and then a mischievous gleam entered his eyes. "Like tear off that dress you were wearing at the Halloween Festival."

She slapped him playfully. "James!"

He shuddered, darkly glaring at the ceiling above them. "You didn't see how Reggie Black was looking at you."

Hermione blushed in spite of herself. She recalled all too well how the Slytherin Prefect's eyes had wandered. Unfortunately for her, James noticed.

Narrowing his eyes, his voice took on a new edge, hands tightening on her arse. "Don't tell me you don't know about his plans for you? I knew the second Mum introduced you two in Diagon Alley. He's just as rotten as Snivellus…"

Her eyes widened. "You weren't even there that day!" At his slow, lopsided grin she cried out indignantly, "James Potter! I can't believe you lied to your mother. She gave Sirius and Pete extra chores because they embarrassed her so badly!"

He shrugged and the dark gleam in his eye took on a golden tint. "Doesn't matter love. Long as he doesn't try to take what's already mine." His hand found his ring on her scarred hand and traced the uneven skin.

Hermione shivered, bit her lip and recognized the desire surfacing when he pressed her palm to his open mouth. "James…did you realize the Micklemas Feast is in two days? We haven't even found our gifts yet."

James hated the Pureblood Gala. He only went because it was his mother's wish for him to take his place in her world. She wanted him to represent everything true and good of both their families. And only because Hermione was his escort did he agree to come to every event. Especially now that he was certain to get _compensation_ afterwards. The devastation on his face quickly turned to a wicked pleasure.

"Yeah, forgot about that. You know, Mione love, I was thinking about us having an after party this time."

"No more chaste midnight kisses?"

"Hell no!"

She giggled and he drew her in for another snog and for the moment they were more than okay.

Hermione would realize only later as they fell asleep in one another's arms, neither of them had used a contraceptive charm.


	27. II: finding herself

**A/N: **_Favorite reaction to Chapter 26: older review from: sanctimoniavincetsemp3r- _:O :O :O !

_Here now is the rest of this mammoth chapter and I hope that it serves up to all of your standards! Thank you so much again and again for the reviews and compliments and occasional complaints lol They were very well recieved!_

_And DriAlmighty, I look forward to your upcoming nagging ;) Hopefully I'll be up for the challenge!_

* * *

**PART 2: Hogwarts**

**Chapter 27**

**Finding Herself**

* * *

Albus Dumbledore looked down at his ward with a twinkle in his eye, as he slowed his steps to match hers. "How close are you to finding your former self, Hermione?"

"P-pardon?" she stuttered, very un-Slytherin-like and tried to ignore the fact her hair was currently attempting to frizz out of its confines even now.

"Your former self, my dear…" Albus explained. "I can only imagine how deeply distressing it would be, to spend your time learning to be someone else, only to have it all stripped away again."

Hermione worried her lip and took his arm when he offered it. He wanted to stretch his legs a bit this morning, during everyone else's first class and their usual tea time. Like their current conversation, she never knew what to expect from him.

Ever since her night with James and all the events preceding it, her nerves had been flayed out for the world to see. Especially since not being near him was akin to a physical pain.

"Hermione?"

She tilted her chin. Golden orbs met periwinkle blue and though his eyes were kind, they knew one another well enough now for her to see his concern.

"Sorry Uncle, I've been a bit—"

"Flummoxed, would be the correct phrase, I believe," he merrily supplied.

"Yes, ah, what?" She blinked past her general lack of sleep. It had been difficult writing a reply to Dorea's owl last night. Especially with the Michaelmas feast this evening.

But Albus Dumbledore was anything but predictable and he answered her only after pausing to turn them into a forgotten corridor near the Headmaster's office. "I believe you will find something of interest in this room."

She didn't question him, but the heavy wards surrounding this particular dark hall of abandoned rooms made her skin crawl. The moment they entered, the candles were lit by wandless magic and a narrow room of tapestries and paintings obscured ceiling to floor. Her gasp was met with dozens of curious eyes, ready to greet their unexpected visitor.

"Good morning friends! I trust you all slept well!" The Headmaster's voice carried over the hushed room and with a breath of air their replies came at once. He nodded and was the picture of politeness.

Hermione took all of this in with awe. She'd never seen the faces and scenes displayed before her.

It seemed as if the oldest and most fragile of Hogwarts' artwork had been placed in this room for protection. Even the air tasted different, altered to preserve and prolonged the lives embedded in the paints that made them live on. Yet the names Hermione did recognize, _Rowena, Queen Maeve, Arthur, Gawain, Godric, Salazar, Beedle_…She nearly choked upon meeting a chap who flirted with her and called himself Merlin.

_If this isn't a way to change the subject I don't know what is._

She grinned at her private joke and kept an attuned ear when Albus whispered back to Merlin, "Do have a care on how Maeve is getting along. I see she has faded since we last spoke."

The young painting of Merlin grinned and nodded. "Course I will Albus! Always do." To Hermione he winked one last time and offered, "Anytime you care to visit me, love, you know where to find me." He laughed heartily at her tell-tale blush. "Aye me! The lady blushes! Looks like I've still got it! Bring her again Albus!"

Hermione couldn't help her grin in spite of her embarrassment and as the Professor led her to the only window in the room she turned one last time to wink back.

"Do you wonder why I have brought you here?" her uncle breathed his question, a whisper opposed to the booming strength he was capable of. His cloak and hat glowed in light of the stained glass window. Hermione drew her fingers over the emerald and ruby panes and saw his eyes linger on the Potter crest.

"Just a little…" She nudged her elbow into his side and grinned up at him. Moments like these, Hermione imprinted and clung fiercely to. She had the slowly growing fear that all the beauty of her new life was going to be ripped away from her again soon. And some instinctive irrational part of her brain protested heavily to this with terror.

"Every Wizard, Witch and Muggle you have seen in this room, died an age before you or I were born. Why do you think we endeavor to keep them safely locked away here?"

_For starters, these would sell enough on the market to feed a small country._

"Ah, I don't know Uncle Albus. The same reason we keep photo albums?"

"Yes, that is exactly it, Miss Dumbledore! You see, even though it would help our world to have them hung where those who need their wisdom can have it, they are too weary to right our wrongs forever." He turned back to the blurred images beyond the colored glass. "How simple it would be, to keep history from repeating itself? What if we could step back in time? What if we could change it? How would we reconcile the differences only _we_ could remember if we did?" He turned a serious eye down to her. "I wonder what the consequences would be for such a feat?"

Something in his words twisted her insides, far worse a feeling than crawling on her skin. Something about it hit her too close to home.

Wrapping her arms over her chest she forced her eyes to the highlands undulating before them. "What would the paintings say?"

He chuckled, then gently wrapped his arm round her shoulders and drew her in until she could smell mint and sherbert lemon, a smell she would forever associate with him.

"You continue to amaze me, Hermione. How much she would have…"

The last was uttered so faintly, she might have missed it.

"You must promise me you will come here should you ever need advice I cannot give you?"

"I will, Uncle. What's the password?" Gazes locked, his eyes gleamed as his fingers turned her palm up to trace the blue vein.

"Your blood."

* * *

Hermione Dumbledore was a sensible Witch, cunning enough to fool most of Slytherin into thinking she was above their inter-house games, that she was Potter's escort simply because it was advantageous for her to be. With Dorea's continued encouragement, she made certain they knew she was soon to be available.

"_This way you are kept desirable only for your pedigree, darling," _the Potter matron had said.

More disturbing, however, was the occasional letter from Mrs. Walburga Black.

"_Regulus has intimated to me that you have chosen to honor your arrangement with young Mr. Potter until the end of the season. _

_I beg you to be wise as you begin to receive the letters. _

_Remember, a hasty decision will bring drastic results. _

_Take the time to get to know these young Wizards. Never hesitate to write me for advice! _

_And dear, whatever disagreement you have had with Regulus, remember you shall never find more true a friend than in him."_

Ever since Mrs. Black's letter, Regulus had been perfectly kind and even offered to study with her outside of class on more than one occasion.

When Hermione verbally and quite scathingly questioned his motives, he only shrugged, and said, "_Do I need a reason? __You're ancient compared to me, not to mention bloody brilliant…for a Dumbledore."_

Grudgingly she gave in and now every Wednesday and Thursday they could be found huddled in the library during their mutual free period. Hermione was very glad that the only Marauder who spent more than the required time in the library, was Remus. Because if Sirius ever found out…

She shuddered at the thought.

"Oi! Dumbledore! Come on, we're freezing our arses here!" Aforementioned Marauder called to her from the open front entrance of the castle steps. Jumping up and down comically in the open arch, he ignored the huddle of black-cloaked Purebloods entering their carriages before them, and growled when she kept her ladylike pace.

"Come on! Prongsie's already claimed a carriage." Sirius snatched her arm the moment she skipped to his side, laughing as they jostled with her floating luggage.

"Your nose is already red!" she exclaimed. "Could we use you to see through the snow Padfoot?"

Sirius grumbled something about too much time around Prongs and turned to her just before their open carriage door, to retort.

"Pads, hurry up and get my girl out of the bloody cold!" James shouted from inside.

"After you…" Sirius inclined his head to her and somehow, she reflected, made red cheeks and nose look sexy.

_Damn him_…Hermione couldn't wipe her grin off her face as she stepped inside, only to be snatched and tumbled into the arms of her very excitable boyfriend.

"James!" She gasped as his hands slipped between her robes and grasped for whatever skin he could find. "Not here!"

His lips silenced her and then with a hearty laugh, "I haven't touched you since last night. It's been torture to see and not be able to feel you." He groaned into her ear and she couldn't help the shivers his warm breath induced.

"Ugh! Can't believe we have to come back here after tonight!" Sirius shut the carriage door behind him, started shaking snow off his cloak and set himself to rights. Lifting his head to his best mates, he was greeted with the last thing he was hoping to see. "Oh bloody hell! Can't you two keep it in for one hour? For my sake, please?"

James placed one lingering kiss on the skin just below her ear and after setting her more comfortably across his lap, laughed. "Told you mate. Should have gone and caught a ride with Isabella Cronk." Wagging his brows, he laughed harder at Sirius's groan and subsequent shudder.

"Worst snog of my life!" he lamented.

Hermione giggled, but for some reason couldn't find as much humor in the tale as she might have. "You actually snogged a Pureblood?"

Sirius's sour face turned sly against her curiosity. "It's been known to happen, love…" He winked.

James buried his face in Hermione's neck, held her closer against him and sighed. "Shocking, isn't it? I mean, the lowest you've ever sank was _Halfblood_, eh Pads?" At a jab from Hermione into his ribs he winced and Sirius laughed. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Not all Purebloods are bad, Mr. Potter." She seethed. James perked up immediately while, to himself, Sirius mused.

"Suppose you're right…after graduation I'm thinking of sticking to Muggleborns only. There's just something _exotic_ about them isn't there?" He scratched his chin as Hermione struggled to fend James' kisses off.

"Sirius! That is an awful thing to say! You're just as guilty of prejudice as they, when you talk like that."

He rolled his eyes, crossed his arms over his chest and then shouted surprise when a small orange ball of fluff landed in his lap. "Oi! What's the idea Crooks! Mione! You weren't supposed to bring him with you!"

James managed to keep her in his lap, pouted into her hair while Hermione narrowed her eyes at his best friend. "Don't shove him off like that!" she exclaimed, jabbing a finger at the air. "He's trying to get comfortable, you prat!"

Sirius winced while Crookshanks burrowed his tiny claws into his exposed, ripped jeans. But after a while James drew Mione's attentions away and while she wasn't looking, Sirius stroked the orange kitten's fur.

They arrived in Hogsmeade shortly after to find their port keys waiting, supervised by the venerable McGonagall. She gave her speech as though she had rehearsed and repeated it a hundred times before this. It was no secret she was not in favor of an event that excluded all but those of "purest blood".

"Be certain to keep to your scheduled return times!"

Her stern warnings included other threats about suspension and dark wizards. Any other time the students might have laughed her warnings off, had they not all just seen the dark mark in the Daily Prophet that morning over breakfast.

James's grip tightened on her ring adorned hand before he smiled down at her. Hermione ignored the looks her house mates surreptitiously gave them. She was determined to enjoy herself tonight, let them think what they will. When they returned to Hogwarts she could worry about keeping up the Slytherin princess act.

"Well, are you two coming or not? I'm about to freeze my balls off out here!" Sirius's hair curled about his neck and fell into his face in frozen perfection as he spoke.

Hermione's laughter surprised them both. Breaking from James's grip, she danced to Sirius's side and the glass bottle in front of them, jabbing his ribs with a finger. Her lips twitched when he grimaced.

"You're just bitter because you couldn't ride with Isabella Cronk!"

He gaped, mouth opening and shutting with indignation. "And you're way too excited, love. Been slipping her Firewhisky again Prongsie?" It was his turn to laugh when her jab aimed a little too low for comfort.

"Oi! That's enough you two!" James slipped easily between them and hooked arms with his Witch. Elbowing Sirius out of the way he leaned over Hermione's upturned rosy face and wagged his brows. "Trying to make me jealous, eh?"

Rolling her eyes she snorted, "_Please_…"

"_Please_ can we get the hell out of here?" Sirius huffed. They eyed each other with slow grins and without hesitation, gripped the bottle and screamed.

* * *

Hermione could have cried the moment they alighted on the front lawn of Potter Manor. Summer seemed a lifetime ago now. Snow lay thinly over the hedge and the gardens. Relief in temperature was given immediately here compared to the highlands of Scotland. The house glowed from the inside out and James wrapped her up in his arms, unable to contain his excitement.

"We're here!" Unable to contain himself a moment longer he burst across the lawn with the same unnatural grace he commanded in the skies.

Hermione watched as the front doors opened. James barreled into the stoic Dorea and hoisted her up into the air, twirling around. Charlus, who was at least ten years older than his beautiful wife, nearly lifted the both of them up next. Their shouts carried across the winding drive.

Sirius's voice beside her broke the perfect picture, "Beautiful isn't it?" They shared a wistful grin. "Never ceases to amaze me how three people can love each other so much. I don't think I'll ever get used to it and I've been a part of this family longer than I've lived with them."

Hermione could feel Dorea's eyes on her then and her stern reprimand for her sheepish son. And then a laughing James was running back down the drive.

"Prongs, you move any slower and you'll turn into a hippogriff's arse!" Sirius offered a crude gesture from beneath his armful of luggage.

Hermione shrugged apologetically just as she was swept into James' arms and bridal style, carried over the threshold.

"James M. Potter put that poor girl down now!" Dorea chastened, hands on her hips. "First you rush up without even bringing her to greet us and now this! Charlus, what sort of barn did you raise him in?"

"The sort where they keep brooms, I'd wager." The brown eyed bespectacled elder Potter winked at Hermione and held his arms open. "Come here poppet."

Hermione did not hesitate when Charlus wrapped her up in his arms. Of an even taller height than his son, even with the strain of old age, he was warm and still strong and smelled like home. Tears pricked her eyes and she tightened her hold on the sage Wizard. Even with Uncle Albus and Aberforth, she didn't feel this same sense of comfort. It could have been because he reminded her of someone from her former life, or because he looked so much like the boy she had come to love.

Whatever the reason, Hermione felt the last of her mask slip away when he held her by the shoulders and smiled the same overwhelming smile his son shared. "Now, there's a good lass. No tears, poppet, dry those up straight away! You're home now…Sirius Black! What sort of mischief have you and my son caused this term?" Slipping his arms over either boys' shoulders, Hermione was left to greet Dorea in peace.

Her eyes were like sapphires, brilliantly clear as jewels and not without a certain edge. But her look was altered. Her shoulders were not so straight as before and her movements favored more wraith-like than swan-like grace. Yet her grip was firm as she drew Hermione in for a motherly hug.

"Oh my dear girl, I have heard lovely things about you." To her ear she whispered, "Well done…though if rumor is to be believed, we have much to discuss apart from the boys before tonight's Gala event. It is being held at Lestrange Manor this year is it not?"

Hermione nodded perceptively as she was led into the gold and burgundy trappings of the great house. "Hello Wispy," she greeted the half-bowed House Elf and was given a warm smile and tearful eyes in return.

"Wispy is so glad to have Miss Hermione home again!" Wispy wrung the brown cloak wrapped like a toga round her waist.

Dorea linked arms with her and led her to her old rooms as the boys retreated to _the Cave_. "So you are dying to know what sort of news I have heard? I can only imagine Slytherin's reaction when you saved a group of Mudbloods." The crude word was lightened by a smirk on her lips.

"How did you know…"

Waving a hand at the air, she said, "Oh, do not be so coy, Hermione. You are far more intelligent than you persist in acting. And I have my spies." Her eyes lit up much as they had in the summer and eerily favored James. So much so, Hermione smiled when she should have panicked.

"You shouldn't believe the stories you hear," she replied. "Hogsmeade was attacked, James and I escaped. No harm done." Dorea's knowing scrutiny was unnerving, but true to her Slytherin training, Hermione held her own, until a flash of approval eased the tension from the elder Witch's face. Their conversation turned to a different and unexpected track.

"Hermione, I must share something with you that not even Charlus is privy to. I know that you and James have shared more than one bond this term. Do not look surprised darling! What sort of mother would I be not to place many wards around our miracle baby?"

It was Hermione's turn to look mortified. "Mrs. Potter, I never meant for any of this to happen!" Dorea's laughter surprised her.

"Oh, I was not surprised darling! Rather I expected and hoped for it." She drew both Hermione's hands in her own and squeezed. "I could not hope for a better Witch to look after my James…" Thoughtfully, she turned to the room recently altered to fit Hermione's tastes. "Already you have done him more good than you realize. As for the primeval bond, there is one book I stole from my father's library years ago that might shed some light."

Hermione frowned, her mind filled to the brim with questions she had scoured Hogwarts for. Before she could begin to ask, Dorea set her concealed bags and lifted the heavy cloak from her shoulders.

"Now, if we are to have you ready for the ball tonight we must begin immediately! Wispy!" she called and the eager House Elf appeared. Witch and Elf shared a grin. "It is time we gave our Hermione a fresh makeover. She is to look her very best for my son tonight."

Hermione groaned at the thought of _more _pampering, scowled at the uncommonly placid Crookshanks curled atop her bed and gazing back at her.

_Least I don't dress you up in dolls clothes..._

* * *

"How did the pumps I sent with you turn out?" Dorea inquired, brows knit together as she struggled to set Hermione's hair to rights. It was difficult to answer without moving her head, nevertheless Dorea adjusted it and sent her a warning glance through the mirror.

Hermione sighed before answering, "They were brilliant of course, the only thing that kept me on my toes the whole night. I was not expecting them to change colors with my dress either. Whoever invented those was ingenious…" Her mind began sorting through the many charms it would take to accomplish the ancient piece of magic currently on her feet.

Dorea's laugh was light and airy and accompanied with a feint wince that she covered with a smile. "Or the poor dear was desperate to fix her shoes so they wouldn't pinch her toes."

Hermione gasped, realization settling in. "_You _invented them!"

Dorea tucked her chin. "You see? Not all household charms are useless Hermione. And I was not the first Witch to think of charming her pumps, but I was the first to patent my creations." Her lips curled into a shrewd smile and the young Slytherin found new respect for the mother of her James.

"There…you are ready." She stepped back and Hermione blinked and stared at herself in the mirror.

Dorea had twisted her bushy mane into even more luxurious curls than the spells Mona taught her, fashioned. Piled high on her head and set with sapphires to match the ostentatious dangling jeweled earrings, only a few tendrils hung down her neck. It gave an overall older look to the little con artist Mrs. Potter had created through her. Hermione tried not to wince when Dorea added several more concealment charms over the many scars that marked her body.

"You're good at that," she whispered, fingers brushing what now appeared to be flawless skin.

"Necessity is the mother of invention, darling…"

With a final swish of her wand the two Witches looked into one another's eyes and a kinship was shared betwixt them that would never be more heart wrenching. Because of the old and new magic pulsing through her veins, she could see the complex weaves that upheld Dorea's flawlessly aged beauty.

_What are you hiding from all of us, Dorea?_

Hermione felt tears fill her eyes, then threaten to spill and smear her dark liner.

"Wispy, is the gown ready?" Dorea's voice trembled as she turned to the wide eyed House Elf.

"Oh!" Wispy exclaimed. "Miss Hermione is enchanting! So perfect for Master James!" At her giggle, Hermione blushed and Dorea chastened, "Enough frivolity Wispy, there is little time for them to be late for the party, and of course one must be fashionably late." House Elf and Mistress shared a knowing grin and Hermione savored the cool silky fabric hugging her curves.

* * *

James paced the width of the grand stair case. Padfoot lazed on the banister before him, picking the dirt from his fingernails. James grinned at the familiar image. No matter how rough his best mate acted, he would always be the aristocrat his devil of a mum bred him to be. Half the time, James could only hope his spectacles were on straight or his hair not sticking up _every_which way. Mum tried to teach him too, of course, but not even a Black could do away with generations of _dysfunctional hair_ breeding. And Potters were simply known for their unpredictable behavior.

Sirius's lazy drawl washed over them and James envied his friends' ability to simply _be_. "She'll still be in one piece after Mummy P gets through with her, you know."

James wrung his hands and cursed when his cuff link caught on his pocket watch chain. "Son of a croup!"

Sirius lifted his gaze, amused, mouth quirked into a smirk at his friends' plight.

The moment James caught his scrutiny his face darkened. "You just don't understand." Huffing a growl, he paced once more and wrung his hands again, his inner eyes picking up every ghost, elf and human movement in the House. The ancient magic pumping a constant supply of adrenaline through his veins didn't help calm his anxiety either.

"What's there to understand? Pop smoothed you out with Firewhisky and you're still worried about a bunch of bigoted snobs?" Sirius's grin widened when James began to mutter to himself and drag his hand through his somewhat reasonable hair. "Oh I see…" he continued, "you're worried about Mummy P's sixth sense."

James's laugh teetered on a groan and he leaned back against a marble column. "Oh, she'll know all about it, I'm sure. Should have seen the look she gave me when I carried Hermione up, like I'd de-robed Guinevere herself!" Sirius' barking laughter did not help his sour mood.

Holding up his hands in retreat the moment James began to advance, Sirius countered, "Oi, relax mate. I'm _beyond_ proud you're finally getting the action you deserve." He ducked to avoid the swinging fist aimed for his face. "Not the hair Prongs!"

James let his arms drop and shook his head, humor escaping soon as it dared to rise to the surface. "She's just—_in my head_—you know? And ever since Hogsmeade…" Sirius's look sharpened perceptively and James grimaced. "It hurts to be apart from her is all I'm saying."

_You better not laugh you wanker…_

James glowered when Sirius only barked louder.

"Sorry mate this is just too good! You're the most love sick tosser in all of bloody England! If only Pete were here!"

James rolled his eyes. _Right, a long night getting smashed with Firewhisky and trying to avoid those two's pranks!_

"Like hell I would have wanted him to hear about this. Not even Remus, you get me, mate?" James flexed his Quidditch toned muscles and even in his dress robes, he was an intimidating sight. And Sirius had perfected his _just shagged_ look too long to want to really piss him off.

Thoughtfully, James tucked his chin and eyed his best mate over the rims of his spectacles. "Speaking of Wormtail, just whose bloody idea was it to bet on _my_Quidditch matches all term?"

Sirius sputtered, searching for an answer but James held up a hand.

"And before you load up a rubbish heap of excuses, what's going on with you three and the Snakes? Hermione won't let us come out officially because she's too worried about retaliation and trying to save all our arses. First, I thought it was because of…something else…but then it hit me the other day." James pasted on a mask of contemplation on his face, tried not to show his anger or his secret glee at seeing his suspicions confirmed in the guilt in Sirius' eyes.

"Yeah, Prongs?" Sirius offered, hopefully.

_Time to lay it thick, you harpy tosser!_

Flashing a grin that didn't quite meet his eyes, brows arched maniacally, James said, "I made you swear to stay off of them, didn't I?"

Sirius found an interesting piece of lint on his cloak.

"I never found out why they came at us a few weeks ago," James said. "Things have been quiet, dead ends every time I tried to bring it up with Hermione or anyone from Slytherin. And I haven't been ambushed by any Snake for at least three weeks, so I was starting to think things were looking up for House unity, especially with times growing darker every day out there. It's important we are united here, don't you see." Sirius frowned, and James pressed on. He leaned back onto the column, hands in his pockets. "But then Evans walks in on at least three fights between our house and theirs in the last two nights."

Bitterly, Sirius remarked, "We all know how batty _she_ is…"

"Another thing, Pomfrey has been treating more First and Second years from stray hexes and jinxes. But on my rounds, I don't find a bloody thing more exciting than couples looking for a good snog."

James Merlin Potter was rarely serious outside the subjects of politics, Hermione and flying. So when faced with his hidden Black heritage seeping from his schooled features, looking too much like Sirius's grandfather Pollux for his comfort...

Sirius threw up his hands in _almost_ defeat, "Well what did you expect Jamie? That we'd just sit on the side lines, making bets and jinxing Fifth Year Ravenclaws the rest of term? We watch each other's backs, no matter the costs, remember?"

James winced, traced the scar on his hand here they'd made their blood oath years before. It was borderline dark magic…_Sirius's_ idea of course. And any time he started to forget the promises they made to guard one another through life, that damned scar reminded him.

"Yeah, I remember."

Sirius nodded and then stood at last, eyes afire with the passion he held for his three best friends. "Good. Bout time you did." Before James could react he pressed on, "Look mate—me, Pete and Remus know how much you've got on your plate right now. It isn't fair for you to lead out a prank war, be Quidditch Captain, chase your Witch _and_ be Head Boy this year. Everyone says you're the best Head Boy Hoggy-Hogwarts has seen in thirty years."

Without hesitation he put his hand on James' shoulder and wished to shake sense into his protective best friend. Knowing James, he'd put everyone else's cares in front of his own happiness. Sirius knew this for a fact.

"So let us take care of Slytherin. Let us protect you and Mione in our own way. Do what you do best!" He offered a wolfish grin.

James knew this implied more than making high marks. But before he could tell Sirius where to shove off, he turned to follow the suddenly diverted trail of Padfoot's glazed eyes. The fire inside of James had not lessened, only grown. Sirius spoke of prank wars when there was a real war brewing outside and a Dark Wizard on the loose. It didn't take much to recall the day he and Hermione had almost lost their lives.

_Maybe if we had told Padfoot at least, then he could make the others understand._

Sirius tossed around the importance of Quidditch but James was so beyond Quidditch.

_Okay, maybe not totally…_ he confessed as he instantly began to plan a fresh strategy for Friday's game. His smug grin and all other dark thoughts died when Sirius physically shoved him round to face the top of the grand staircase.

His jaw dropped.

Under light of the chandelier with its hundreds of tiny mirrors reflecting unnaturally over the entrance hall, stood a creature that wholly belonged to its beauty.

James's eyes dragged slowly from her silver pumps, up the shimmering indigo fabric that was enchanted with the night sky and hung loose off her wide hips. James had only _known_ Hermione for two days, two nights spent desperate to memorize every inch of her, now she was his.

Desire stirred in his blood and made him clench his fists to fight off becoming too excited. Their bond pulsed stronger, made his skin crawl desperate to meet hers. The sash that tied round her dress robes from behind, streaming silver translucence in front and back, wrapped round her narrow torso and pushed up her full breasts. Half covered, they looked ready to spill out at any moment and yet remained snugly in place. There was an impossibly long journey of the eyes from breast to collar to neck and the radiant face crowned with a sleek version of her dark curls.

_Holy hippogriffs! Count to three Prongs…_

_Okay count to five…_

_Shite!_

She was waltzing down the stair case with ease and a smirk on her lips. Only James noticed the fact that behind her feigned confidence was a Witch who secretly wanted to be thought beautiful. Whatever life she had led before he found her, James was certain she wasn't appreciated.

He almost laughed aloud at his thoughts.

_Here's one Wizard who plans on appreciating every inch of her, later, _he promised himself.

He bit his lip when he saw _his_ring with his family crest on her hand. That symbol, above all things, turned him on the most. Hermione still didn't know the full meaning behind that gift. Everyone else just assumed she knew. And until she was ready he didn't plan on sharing.

Glancing back at Sirius, James nicked his mate's jaw with a playful fist to force it closed.

"Easy there, pup," he laughed and then turned to jump up the remaining steps, until Hermione's eyes were level with his own.

Both reached for the other in unison, linking fingers and longing to do much more. To her he whispered, even though he knew of Padfoot's exceptional hearing, "Clearly I've never known beauty before this night, love." Wagging his brows at her, eyes heavy with intent, his grin widened as he watched her skin flush with desire.

"Then you'll just have to get to know her better…later."

Her suggestive words, smelling better than any flower or fruit, simply being _Hermione_, made his control slip. Grounding himself with her hands, he caught her lips with his own and groaned to feel her sigh into his mouth. Just as he was about to part her lips and explore further, his mum's firm hand clawed his shoulder.

He jerked away from her and cursed at the sudden sting of pain behind his head, "Ow!"

"You're already late, Jamie! Don't dawdle!" Dorea hissed with a fond cluck and twinkle in her eye for her miracle baby.

Sirius had regained his composure meanwhile and was laughing outrageously. "You're a riot Mummy P! Care to be my date?"

With a heavy sigh, Dorea ushered the children to the front door. "You're forty years too late darling. James, where's your father? He should be here to send you off."

James was frowning, trying _not_to stare down Hermione's cleavage, while also trying not to cause further turmoil downstairs.

So Sirius supplied, "Never fear, Mummy P. Pop is stowed away in the Cave with his friend, Mr. Odgen, I think…"

Dorea hissed a stream of harsh reprimands, but beamed at the trio the moment she stepped back to survey their cloaked figures. Clasped hands together she gushed, "You are simply breathtaking! You'll more than show up the lesser half of my self-important family."

Sirius barked a laugh at this, "Too right you are Mummy P! I'll do our name proud, just wait and see! And they'll never know _you_ are the real rebel who sent me!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "Honestly, Sirius! Must everything be a joke to you?"

He cupped his hand to his ear. "Methinks I've heard this before."

James met his mother's eyes and with his free arm he wrapped her into a bone crushing hug. "Thanks Mum."

"Have a magical time and try not to get lost in Lestrange Manor."

* * *

**Review: If you fancy :)**


	28. II: gallant retreat

**A/N: mh21-here's your latest fix ;) and to all of you other lovelies who have reviewed, you make every word worth it!**

* * *

**Part 2: HOGWARTS**

* * *

**Chapter 28**

**Gallant Retreat**

* * *

The Feast of Michaelmas was a wickedly festive affair. Much akin to Christmas decor, the dark, imposing house was bedecked with winter garlands and yuletide. Hundreds of floating candles lined the available passageways on the ground floor and swarmed the great ballroom where the feast was held. Yet no amount of festive decor could shield the dark atmosphere of the Gothic structure. Dark magic had clearly held its taint over the family for many generations.

Hermione and James could feel its seductive pulse through their bond even now.

Hermione clung to James' arm and took comfort, sandwiched between her two best friends. While inside she was cringing every step that took them deeper into the house's foundations, on the surface she greeted her Housemates with cool ease.

Whispers followed the two Gryffindors.

Sirius Black had his own reputation to thank for his notoriety of course, judging from the longing stares half the men's dates were flashing him. The fact he chose to show his face at all was enough insult to the host and hostess Lestrange, that they completely ignored him altogether, not even announcing his presence. Then again, this might have been due more to the fact the young Mrs. Lestrange was formerly a Black. And everyone knew Sirius had been disowned by his large and influential family.

Yet there were plenty others interested in the infamous, star-crossed match of Potter and Dumbledore, as well. Though they had done their best to hide the full nature of their relationship, their ambiguity made them even more alluring. And there _were_ all those rumors about what really happened in Hogsmeade. Tonight, most of these whispers included the unexpectedly beautiful Dumbledore heiress.

Hermione flinched every time she was met with, instead of the usual open and calculating stare, dark curiosity and knowing. As if these young Dark Wizards in training wanted her to know, they knew what really happened the day they defied the Dark Lord.

It was soon clear that Sirius had made it his personal mission to steal everyone else's dates for the night, to the outrage of many old purists included in the feast. Many of his estranged family was in attendance and did their best to paste false indifference over their anger filled handsome faces.

Several Aurors had been invited over as well, thanks to Dumbledore's insistence. Ever since the Hogsmeade attack, even more care and caution had been given to the Wizarding World's finest and upcoming members, yet the great Headmaster himself was nowhere to be seen.

Not everyone's guardians were present just yet however. This was an invitation only affair, sans the Aurors, so more than one Gryffindor and Hufflepuff was left out of the loop. Only the most talented and rich purebloods were granted attendance.

James pointed out a few names Hermione had not been expecting. Nodding to a tall bespectacled brunette laughing at the center of yellow dresses, he said, "That's my cousin, Vivian Potter. She's our year in Hufflepuff. Her two younger sibs are privately tutored now that they're living with our great-aunt Coraline."

"Cousin?" Hermione had heard little of the Potters, perhaps because there was only a handful left. As if reading her thoughts, James smirked.

"Bastards haven't exterminated all of us blood traitors yet. We Potters have a nasty talent for surviving…and then getting blown up." He chuckled darkly but Hermione shivered.

"Vivian's my Uncle Edward's eldest. Wish you could have met the bloke."

"What happened to him?"

"Wouldn't join _his_ cause." He pointed out several other distant kin and a few disowned Black cousins in attendance. Andromeda Black Tonks laughed with Sirius in front of a tapestry of a garden of snakes. Their colorful laughter drew some of the chill from the hall. It was easy to see how they could be related.

"I wonder if we should have come tonight." Hermione clutched James's upper arm as he led her through the din.

James turned and smiled over her, promise of the night to come in his hazel orbs. "I got my own reasons for wanting to be here. But I promise, as soon as possible, we'll sneak out and have a real party, yeah?" He winked and leaned forward, his hand slipping about her neck.

Hermione pushed him back with a gasp and frantic glance. "No! James they'll see!" she hissed, missing the flicker of annoyance and frustration in his eyes.

"Miss Dumbledore! Mr. Potter! What a superb delight it is to see you two here, _together_, ha!" Slughorn appeared from midair it seemed, dragging his circle of society mongers behind him. They flocked around the couple as he began to list his star pupils' many attributes.

So engrossed he was in his description, James whispered in Hermione's ear, "Maybe we should have joined the Slug Club sooner?" He winced from her jab to his ribs.

"Delighted to meet you," Hermione offered. She threw them her most winning smile, thanking Dorea again for the charms that enhanced her beauty to more influential heights.

"As are ve, Miss Dumbledore," replied a pasty, thin, and dark figure whose visage practically screamed _vampire_.

His lingering kiss on her wrist made James' fingers dig tighter onto her waist. Gritting his teeth together, he pulled her away. "Well this has been a pleasure, gents, madam, but I'm afraid we're ignoring our friends. Excuse use."

"Of course my boy! Do be delicate with her, mind you! She's clearly the eye of every bachelor present, wouldn't you agree Armande?"

"Indeed," the dark vampire replied. When Hermione glanced over her shoulder at him, he smirked and licked his lips. She averted her gaze quickly, afraid James might see the flush on her cheeks.

They were stopped three more times by Hermione's own Housemates. Travers and Wilkes were flanked by the Carrows and their escorts, a formidable group, even without Severus Snape leading them. Desdemona Lefay and Pervincia Macbeth were thankfully present and eyeing James with equally wicked grins.

_Looks as though Wilkes lost his chances with Mona. _

Hermione pasted on an almost bored look as Pervincia swooned on Wilkes' arm and he glanced longingly at Lefay more than once in their conversation.

"Sweet Salazar, Miss Dumbledore I believe we should have paid more attention to you had we known you had _this _hiding beneath those school robes…" crooned Travers with a bat of his pale green eyes.

"Muzzle your foul mouth Travers," Mona sneered.

James's fingers clenched into a fist and she pushed them safely away from causing a scene.

"I believe you shall have to learn to live with regret then," Hermione offered over her shoulder and caught Mona's approving icy stare.

Supper was heralded with announcements from the elder Mrs. Lestrange. Her husband was out of town on _business affairs_ but the blonde matron carried on the traditions proudly. They droned on and on over the history of the Gala, all the way through the second course. Finally, music filled the hall and several off handed couples danced in circles around them.

Sirius sat on Hermione's left side soon after the meal began and upon her questioning he simply shrugged and chucked her chin. "You'll find out soon enough, love."

James and Hermione laughed with the small crew of familiar faces they found afterwards.

"I finally had to threaten him to keep him from bringing a Muggleborn tonight," her private boyfriend said. James was in stitches over the idea.

Hermione didn't know Frank Longbottom or Alice Greengrass very well, but both of them met her with kind smiles and a few teasing jabs for James.

"Keeping her all to yourself tonight, Potter?" Alice grinned. Longbottom meanwhile, stared at the tiny Witch as if she were his entire world.

James drew Hermione in closer by the waist and she glanced round them to find her Housemates _were_ watching. "Damn straight," he replied. "Snakes keep her locked in the dungeon too often, eh Mione?"

She tried to smile when Desdemona Lefay met her eye from across the banquet hall.

James rounded on her the next instant, while Longbottom and Greengrass cooed nonsensically to one another. "Mione? What is it, love?"

His anxious eyes were too telling, Hermione knew. Was it just her imagination or were they slipping already? Were they really as clever as she believed? Could they fool the Dark Lord into thinking they were no threat? She struggled to breathe, her vision blurring as the thought struck her.

_You both ruined that when you fought him in Hogsmeade. He invaded your mind, Dumbledore. What if he saw something else he wanted?_

Gasping for air, she was startled by the warm graze of James's broom-calloused palms. He stood in front, bent over her, with concern bleeding from his eyes and through their bond. His magic unknowingly caressed hers as if to seek any tears or breaks in their weaves. His eyes were a hazel blend of amber and emerald flecks and right now, laughter gone from his face, she knew he was just as concerned as she was.

The difference between them, was that James Potter could care a _flying fuck_ what anyone thought of him.

"Breathe, love…just breathe," he whispered, so low, she almost didn't hear over the din of people.

So she focused on him until the lights stopped dancing in her vision and she saw his slow face splitting smile and knew she could make it through the night.

"Well look at that. Selwyn making even more a spectacle of himself than usual." Alice Greengrass mused somewhere in front of them. They turned their heads at the same time to follow the scene unfolding. A very pink faced Selwyn was pining after the younger Mrs. Lestrange like a lovesick fool.

Hermione's eyes narrowed and darted through the crowd of confused faces until she found the culprit laughing heartily in the corner. Sirius must have felt her disapproval across the way because he met her eye and winked, lifted and teased her with a shake of the love potion vial in his hand. And it was then she realized James was trying too hard not to laugh.

"What's so funny Mr. Potter?"

"Well, I may have helped him to make the potion a week ago." At her glare he shrugged. "Maybe I was desperate to liven the prank war up a bit? Look, it's not like he told me when he was planning on using it tonight! I didn't really do anything!"

"Of course you didn't, you only encouraged him to make an arse of himself," Hermione deadpanned. "James do you know how dangerous those potions can be?"

Holding his hands between them, he said, "Before you start listing every side effect, love, why don't you just sit back and enjoy the show?"

Hermione frowned and blushed when she realized Frank and Alice were watching the scene with amused grins.

James grinned roguishly with his former bunk mate.

Alice nodded to herself. "Now that I see you two together, I can see how she's perfect for you, Potter."

* * *

Once supper was over with the games were allowed to begin. James and Sirius tried to get Hermione to join the transformed banquet hall, now life sized Wizard's chess board, and failed repeatedly.

"No, I shall not be put on display James Merlin Potter! Sirius, stop tugging at my dress! For heaven's sake " Hermione swatted them away.

Sirius laughed, eyes gleaming with mischief. "But you've only seen half the chaos I intend on causing! Why not join us where it's safe?"

James cut in. "Yeah, especially since your Housemates are still reeling over the fact someone smuggled those potions past the house wards."

"Don't think I'll ever forget the sight of Selwyn throwing himself at Bella's feet!"

Hermione shivered at the mention of Sirius's wild-eyed cousin and watched her boys dart off to help start the game.

Ironically enough, the darker half of the life-sized chess board was occupied by Slytherin House both new and old, the lighter by the otherwise sorted.

Wizard's Chess was barbaric in Hermione's opinion and she couldn't stomach the suspense of watching James and Sirius go against her own Housemates, not when she was supposed to be on both sides.

Dorea's words carried in back of her mind,"_We Snakes are not all cold in our hearts, but we must never allow these emotions to breech the surface."_

Wizards stood on their respective squares and instantly their clothes were charmed to fit their stations. Sirius was a rook and James the bishop. The crowd gathered around the square edges and threw out cheers and the occasional wandless **_confundus _**on the players they disliked.

Disgusted and torn between Lefay's expectant stare from the dark side, Hermione backed against the wall until she found her way to the women's toilet.

The empty corridor between the banquet hall and restrooms was so high, not even the lamplight penetrated its depths. And the lamp light was dimmed with smoke around its glass edges. Hermione held her breath as her heels clicked across the black on white marble.

Cheers and jeers from ahead echoed her way and she hesitated several paces from the banquet hall, which so happened to be in front of a peculiar alcove, housing a mysterious wind.

Hermione knew she should return to the game, find some way to hex her boys so they were out of the game and could go home. The longer they stayed inside this manor, the longer she mingled with _those _people, the harder her mask was to maintain and the harder it was to ignore the tug of dark magic. The same magic, whose sister curse had wrapped her memories in an dark veil months before.

The tapestry covering this alcove rippled with the wind and Hermione found her fingers pulling its edge aside to uncover a narrow, dimly lit passageway. And deep within the passage, voices whispered dark and sinister things, terrible things.

_No…turn around and walk away Dumbledore…_

Hermione let the fabric drop as if burnt and turned away. Walls and corridors could not speak, she firmly reminded herself. She laughed inwardly at her own foolishness, only to gasp as she collided with a tall, dark figure.

"James, I'm sorry I was just…" He steadied her with leather gloved hands, stunting her first guess. Her gaze rose to meet a smug pair of sapphire orbs. "**_Black_**! What are you doing here? You aren't even in our year!"

Regulus Black held her at arm's length, though by the way he leaned into her still hinted of darker intentions. Though she would never admit it to anyone, Hermione had been unconsciously looking for him all night, wondering if he would manage some way to come.

Tilting his head to the side, so the nearby lamplight cast half his features in the light, he replied, "Miss Dumbledore, I would advise you return to the feast and not ask any difficult questions."

He was teasing her, baiting her as he always did. Hermione was instantly indignant that he was here, that he had caught her, and above all that talking with him made her feel guilty, for some reason. Then again, James had already given a full ear his opinion of "Reggie" Black.

Yet looking up into his eyes now, while pursing her lips and searching for a reason to stay angry with him, she glimpsed a flash of the boy she had met in Diagon Alley. When she did not budge, he smirked his crooked smile and grabbing her by the arm, dragged her the opposite direction from the party.

"Where are we going? Take your hands off of me Regulus Black or I swear to Merlin I'll…"

He rounded on her suddenly, shoved them into a shadow clenched corner and braced himself against the wall beside her face. "You'll _what_? Hex my balls off? Yeah, real original Dumbledore…" he deadpanned with the effort of humor, rather a mask of curiosity.

Tilting her chin up, Hermione clenched her fists and remembered she didn't need her wand to best him. "I should prefer something worse actually, but I doubt you'd want to spend the rest of the term as a rat, would you?"

His laugh was short, akin to the barking quality of his elder brother, only breathier, deeper. "Couldn't help me with homework if you did that, Dumbledore."

She could see the gleam of his teeth in the distant light of the lamps.

The banquet hall erupted into cheers and cries of near pain.

"The rate you are slipping, _Black, _I'm tempted to revoke our arrangement. I'm no longer convinced it is in the best of both our interests. Now, before I change my mind, why don't you tell me why you just dragged me into a dark hallway, after telling me to go back to the party?" Placing her hands on her hips, she reminded herself he was two years her junior at least.

"I have my reasons for not wanting to be seen tonight."

"Afraid Sirius will hex you for me, if he sees you?"

Regulus's eyes traveled from her lips down her throat and the space between them. All confidence she had just built up disappeared in the instant his eyes caught hers and told her he knew he'd won their silent game for now.

"Something like that," he admitted. His posture shifted from threatening to relaxed against the wall by her side as he shoved his hands into his robe pockets. "But what_ I_ want to know, Miss Dumbledore, is why you've been avoiding your own Housemates all evening?"

Hermione froze and refused to meet his eye. Only a subtle twitch of her fingers betrayed her. "I'm here as Mr. Potter's escort."

Regulus grinned, then turned to face her. "You and I both know your brilliance far outweighs his. You could be so much greater than this. Everyone knows it. I would have thought you would start listening to Lefay by now…"

She rounded on him in an instant, fire in her eyes and her heart. It was a side of Hermione, Regulus was intent on drawing out.

"And just how would you know what Lefay says?"

Rolling his eyes, he sighed. "Hermione, you're able to fool most of these sycophants, who only want your money and title and—_other _desirable assets—but Lefay is _intelligent_. And despite my mother's meddling implies, I do care about more than adding your name to my family tree." He suddenly paused and glanced both ways down the hall. Drawing out his wand, he cast a silent spell.

Hermione gasped. "You aren't allowed to magic outside school grounds Regulus! You'll be expelled!"

He chuckled. "If Potter told you anything about the family whose home you were about to see, I shouldn't have to explain."

He waited for her to sort through this newest piece of information before diving in for the reason he had come this night in the first place. She barely felt the brush of his fingers on the enchanted skirt of her dress. The night sky still gleamed over the fabric, only now it was covered by thick gray clouds.

"All I am telling you, is you need to be more careful. I've seen the way Potter looks at you." Disgust filled his voice.

"And what way is that?" She bit back.

"Like he already _owns_ you…and the first thing you should know about our House, Hermione, is that we do not tolerate being made fools."

Snatching her fingers in his, she was too surprised to swat them back.

"I know more about you than you realize…"

Her eyebrows rose and he laughed at her unspoken question.

"I know that you have dark magic around you. I felt it that day in Diagon Alley. No one can see the other side of hell and not carry the scars, love."

"I don't know what you're talking about…"

"I think we both know you do. But you should know you can trust me Hermione, no matter what else happens or is said in the future, know that much. I will always be here to look after you, Salazar _knows_ you're going to need it."

Narrowing her eyes at his cryptic words, she said, "What do you mean?"

He forced a grin. "Choose the right side, Hermione. And make it less obvious you're _in love_ with Potter, unless you want to make his life a living hell."

She opened her mouth to ask more and was instead interrupted by a high laugh and the clash of magic in the air. Hermione rushed to it without a second thought, leaving Regulus behind in the shadows though she didn't know it. Because she felt his panic through their bond.

_James!_

They couldn't use magic outside Hogwarts, but if she guessed right, the Lestrange's had set something in their wards that made them unplottable to the Ministry. Which meant there really was another reason for the Aurors present.

_Shit!_

She ran faster and ducked to miss a stray chunk of rock explode near her head. The two wizards stood several feet apart in front of her in the empty hall she had just left. James faced off the man Hermione remembered naming off before.

_Lucius Malfoy..._

Their magic exploded from the tips of their wands and clashed together in a tug of power.

James yielded first and cast a shield around himself with the lift of his free hand. He growled at the smug Lucius. "Go to hell! I'll be damned before I'll join you _cause_!"

"So hasty in your decision Potter…Perhaps you aren't worthy of his consideration after all. Such a pity! You know he will take the Dumbledore heiress from you, unless you join us."

"She'll never join you bloody bastards!"

Lucius stood several inches shorter, but held his head in such a way that he seemed to tower over James. "Why would she not? I have it on good authority she has already begun to give _true _credit, for the first time, to her family name."

James's eyes darted briefly to hers. He knew she was there. She could feel his magic caressing hers and yet it wouldn't calm the fury in her heart, or her intent. Regulus's warning be damned, she wasn't about to embrace _that_ heartless fool.

She appeared out from the shadows, startling Lucius with her words and outstretched hand. "**_Avis_** **_Oppugno!_**" Birds appeared from midair and attacked the Wizard's perfectly combed hair, pecked at his skin and his eyes.

James gave him no time to recover from Hermione's attack. He threw a full body binding hex over the former Slytherin and took her into his arms.

"Where the bloody hell have you been, Witch? Padfoot's still looking for you in the banquet hall and we're leaving before the Muggle burning starts up."

She trembled in his arms, ghostly pale and wondering why that particular spell felt so familiar and so foreign at the same time. She could not recall the image of the text behind that spell in any book tucked away in her mind.

When she gave no reply James continued to drag them away, past the banquet hall and for the front. He snatched a hand mirror from his robe pocket. "Padfoot? We're leaving now mate."

"Be joining you, soon as I convince Travers to kiss Snivellus on the lips tomorrow morning!" Sirius laughed.

Muttering to himself, James wrapped her in her cloak and barreled out of the dark house. "Blacks and their stupid family curses…"

Hermione was secretly glad that he didn't try to question her any farther. Even after he wrapped her into himself and disapparated back to Potter grounds.

* * *

She was too overwhelmed with the things Regulus had told her, with the fact that Malfoy was sending them messages from _him_. It made her realize how careless she had allowed herself to be in the last two days, how real the danger they found themselves was. It made her reconsider keeping all of this from her Uncle and the boys. Should she really trust Regulus? What else did he know about her?

_Who remembers me from my life before I woke up at the Potters?_

James did not let go of her until they had slipped through the silent hallways and locked themselves in his room. Only then did she realize he was still mumbling nonsense about Slytherin and secret agendas and the War that was nearly upon them.

He fell silent, concentrating on the clasp of her cloak as he unhooked it and brushed the fabric off her thin shoulders.

"James?" she began softly, wondering whether he too knew more about her than she did herself.

"What is it, love?" He smiled shakily at her, thinking thoughts as dark if not worse than she.

Biting her lip, she asked the one question she had least expected to escape her thoughts. "Do you think I'm more than books and knowledge?"

"What?"

Her eyes widened, slightly glazed with her words. "I mean…do you think I have a—a soul?" Memories from behind the veil, emotions and feelings rather than images slipped through the cracks then.

_Failure, despair, longing, loss…_

_My fault!_

She was sinking into the dark abyss Regulus had revealed to her, confirming her own suspicions all along. She was altered because of the curse. She would never again be who she had been before. Could she ever hope to find more? Would she ever stop grieving for a person, a future she could not remember?

"Mione, look at me!" James assaulted her fiercely, grabbed her face with calloused hands and bore his gaze so deeply into hers, he pulled her back out of the pit. Though they were inches apart his voice carried and shook her deepest fears.

"You are the most beautiful—the most pure _soul_ I've ever known! No one could make me feel like _this_ who didn't feel just as strongly back."

Their magic was twisting between them, invisible tendrils curling and tightening his hold on her.

Hermione blinked back tears.

"Don't you dare give in to whatever sick _fuck_ cursed you. You'll always be more than what's up here." He shook her head between his hands, and suddenly his hands slipped down over her neck, everywhere.

She gasped at the feeling, choked on her sob as she felt him stitching her back together.

"You're mine, and I'm yours. That's all you need to know, love. And if you ever do lose yourself, I'll come after you, no matter how long or hard a way you make it."

His lips brushed over hers, breathed life into her limbs. She clutched onto him and understood now what Albus had meant.

When she kissed him, it wasn't with desperation or pure lust to satiate their desires. It was to cover the dark abyss inside of her mind with new memories and feelings, of _James._

* * *

**Review: **_If you love Reggie Black as much as I secretly do ;)_


	29. II: capricious advances

_**A/N: **__Hello everyone! I am back after a little mini break lol. So for anyone doubting my word, here is proof I haven't stopped writing the story! I ended up writing more scenes for future chapters just because they were the ones I was inspired to write. Now I'm making an effort to tidy the mess up again. Hope you enjoy some fun with our secondary characters :)_

* * *

**PART 2: Hogwarts**

**Chapter 29**

**Capricious Advances**

* * *

It was hell being back at Hogwarts the night after Sirius's greatest triumph, especially because of the hangover making him occasionally see a double of McGonagall right now.

His chin slumped in his hand, eyes drooping. He caught himself just before his head _thunked_ into his desk and shook his shaggy mane like the wet dog he occasionally was, eyes rolling back into focus.

"Mister Black!" McGonagall barked. His Transfig professor had little patience for the Gala affair. This was no secret to Hogwarts Purebloods. It also wasn't a secret that she had even less patience for Sirius and two of his best mates.

_Course Moony gets away with anything. I bet he could shit on her favorite robes and she'd give him an O!_

He started grinning at the thought of pranks and the like, turning his mind back to the night before again. In the background he could have sworn he heard voices and a growing turbulence, but it was drowned out by the hangover from hell. Not even Hermione's pick-me-up potion worked.

_Wish the Aurors hadn't ended the fun…Mione looked like a goddess last night…_ He tilted his chin to look at her, seated with two Ravenclaws on the opposite end of the room. She was mouthing something at him, her chocolate eyes wide with fear, but he only grinned wider.

"Bloody gorgeous…" he murmured and jumped when his textbook jumped out of his hand and began to snap away at him. "Ah!" The class erupted in laughter which only made his head hurt more.

_Where did I go after the after-party? Oh right…another party…_

He grinned at the brunette Ravenclaw to Hermione's left.

_Bunny…was that her name? I'll have to remember that one…_

"MISTER BLACK!" McGonagall's wand was pointed at him and the soundproof bubble around his head popped and noise burst on through. He realized too late that his Professor's wand was pointed at him, not to stop the bloody book from ruining his hair, but because she was trying to wake him up.

Her demonstration ended when she brought the book to a loud _thwack_ in front of him.

James held his face in his hands and was shaking, no doubt from repressed laughter. Pete on the other side of their leader didn't try to hide his stitches.

Evans's voice clearly remarked just as most of the class was settling down, "Whose bed did _he _roll out of this morning?" He shot an indignant glare at her for that, but found the effort hurt his eyes like the blazes.

McGonagall had been lecturing to him for a full fifteen minutes before he caught on, "and furthermore, perhaps you should not bother coming at all in such a _delicate _condition, Mr. Black! I would have expected better decorum from such a brilliant student. What a shame your talents are wasted thus!"

He blinked stupidly up at her and caught a flashback of Hermione's dress, how it had looked from her pose at the top of the stairs. "Bloody gorgeous…" was the comment he groaned into his hand.

"Mister Pettigrew, perhaps you should join your friend in detention this evening as well, as you seem to enjoy his good humor!"

This ceased Pete's laughter. Sirius heard more words about detention and decorum but tuned them out. He had bigger fish to fry. Detention with McGonagall might give him and Pete time to brainstorm for their parting holiday gift to the snakes. The end of term had come entirely too soon, thanks to that damned Gala.

Hopefully he'd have enough time to con Hermione into giving him what he needed!

* * *

Once his hangover _finally_ went away, Sirius Black was on Cloud 9. It so happened that he rejoined the land of the living while upsetting Hermione. He couldn't help the fact he enjoyed pulling her hair. Those curls were just too irresistible. James had warned him to stay away from "the hair". Usually this was something Sirius understood, but it was entirely different matter while on the offensive end, watching her eyes burn with amber fire.

"Sirius Black! I swear if you don't stop this second…" She batted his hand away for the umpteenth time. Peter snickered down into his detention assignment beside her, trying not to give in.

Sirius stuck out his lower lip and tossed his head so his hair fell perfectly to the side. "Come along, let me charm it black, just this once love…" Sticking his tongue out the corner of his mouth in a show of concentration, he slid his wand easily into his hand and aimed.

Hermione promptly slammed McGonagall's abnormally large records book shut, dust scattering a light cloud over them before snatching his wand with her hand.

_Right where I wanted you_…he thought triumphantly. Because he was prepared, Sirius didn't let her take his wand this time, instead covered her hand with his and smirked. And then recognition settled in her eyes, followed by vague discomfort, though he did not know of, she struggled to shake.

"You git," was her weak retort when he leaned in.

"You should loosen up a bit. Hols are starting up in less than twenty-four hours and we're stuck here serving detention with you!"

Hermione scoffed and he released his grip. "You're laughing now but I'm the one stuck with _you two_ when I could be with James. Don't think he's going to let you forget this."

"Prongs is used to us ruining his life by now." Sirius sank into his chair and propped his feet on the table's edge. Pete had done most of correcting the last of McGonagalls' papers. He grinned when Hermione's eyes narrowed in on his feet.

"And I do not think Professor McGonagall will appreciate your feet on her desk!" She tapped his foot with her quill and he instantly felt an odd tingle shoot up his leg, followed by an incurable itch.

As he set to scratching it aside he felt a new determination rise in him. The day had passed him in a blur, with hardly any chance to shake Slytherin by their knickers. He had plans for them, and from the clues Pete had given him before meeting for this last detention, they might still have the chance to succeed.

_Now if only I can convince Mione._

"Merlin's beard! If this is what being an apprentice gets you, I'm glad I do poorly on purpose! Aren't you bored with being teacher's pet, Mione?"

"I told you not to call me that," she grumbled and focused on her papers. "And I am not her apprentice, I just owed her a favor is all."

_Why is she the one grinning when she's obviously so bloody miserable?_

"Favor?" He looked over her doubtfully. Sirius was convinced Hermione was anything but happy. Sure James had made a dent in her moods ever since they went public to the Marauders. The rest of the school was in the dark to just how far their school romance was buried. He grinned to himself. Deeply buried indeed.

_There are some advantages to a two-way mirror…_

Not that he had watched or anything. Voyeurism was too second rate for any Black, even a rogue! Sirius had vowed long ago to himself to always only ever take a piece of the action or die trying.

"It's the last day of term, Mione and what are you doing? Giving out detentions because Minnie's as ready for holiday as the rest of us and won't be bothered by them!" He leaned forward across the desk. Her brow furrowed, eyes glancing furtively to him. He scratched his leg.

_Why the hell won't it stop itching?_

"Seriously, what did you do today, besides snog with Prongsie during your break period?" The edge in his voice was offset by a sneaking grin and she scoffed at it, shoving a fresh stack at Peter to organize. Glancing at his progress, she paused.

"No, no Peter you're doing it wrong again! You aren't organizing them by House but year! Reference the list I gave you."

"Sorry, Hermione."

She sighed, lips curving into a soft smile that Sirius wished was for him, damn it.

"Of course, just hurry it along. I would like to make my appointment tonight."

"Well?" Sirius barked impatiently.

Hermione fastened her frustration on him, hair frizzing with her frazzled emotions. "What?"

"Well, what have you done that's even remotely exciting?" He waited while her indignation turned to uncertainty before pouncing. "See! My point exactly. People would be less inclined to imagine a stick up your arse if you'd just learn to loosen up and join in some innocent pranking once and a while!" He waved his hands and then met Pete's open grin. "Am I right mate?" The moment Hermione's gaze followed his direction Wormtail let his grin fall sheepish. Sirius shook his head.

_Little shit! Course he'd take her side._

"Does it ever occur to you that some of us have an image to maintain around here?" She straightened the mess and finished Peter's job for him while trying to let him help. Pushing her curls behind her narrow ears, she huffed and arranged the rest of the chaos into order. "Some of us have to make certain that we don't cause the ones we love to suffer from our stupidity."

Sirius didn't have a clue what she was talking about, but he was desperate to find out. The three of them were dying to know, honestly. Why the secrecy?

"Why do you think we Marauders are the darlings of Hogwarts? We know how to please, Mione, that's why! So who cares what the gossips say to themselves? In public we'll always be the best. In my experience tarnishing my image has only made me more popular."

"There's a vast difference between popularity and infamy…" But worry creased her brow, the same worry he saw slip into James's eyes when he thought the others were too distracted to notice.

"That's it." He stood so abruptly, the chair rocked on its heels and Peter nearly upturned the last stack of papers in his hands. Hermione somehow managed to freeze the marked tests in midair.

_Must have had her wand ready to hex me in the other hand._

The thought made him grin cheekily. He loved it whenever he found the chance to put a Witch on edge and Hermione made it so easy sometimes. She sighed and the papers reassembled themselves in a blur. Peter backed away from the table palms up to ward away any other disaster, his brief scowl directed at Sirius.

"Oi! Steady on, Padfoot…"

"Sirius Black, do you ever think about the consequences of your actions?"

Sirius threw up his hands. "Well if everyone bloody thought through everything they did, certain little princesses wouldn't have any fun either, yeah?" Hermione protested when he eased around the table and began to pull her away by the arm. The itch in his skin eased the moment their hands touched.

Sputtering while reaching for her satchel, "S-Sirius Black! Let me go you prat! We are not finished!"

"Oh yes we are, you self-righteous Slytherin clone!" he barked back, dragging her out of the classroom and winking three times with his right eye at Wormtail to be sure he got the right signal.

_Bugger better get it right this time!_

While Wormtail checked the map for signs of Filch and any other unwanted parties, Sirius tried to smooth the Witch in his hands over.

"—and furthermore," she said, "I am, as you might recall, the object study of a mysterious dark curse, one that _your _relatives might have gladly inflicted upon me, for reasons I am still unawares!"

"Are you done going spare?" He laughed when she pulled her hand back to jab his chest.

_Calming, not provoking pup…_

He took her hand in his before she could strike him again. "Look, okay, maybe I go out of line occasionally." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and set a dangerous stare on him. "Fine," he exclaimed, "I'm a dirty wanker, you happy?"

"Not quite." Her lips twitched into a gut wrenching smile.

He repressed his own, to maintain a more wilting posture. "Well, at least see this from my point of view. We're Marauders, love. Mooney gets off on high marks and librarian Witches, James has his Quidditch and _you_, but me and Wormtail, this is all we have to live for. And if we are deprived of one last huzzah before the end of term, think of all the poor souls we'd be letting down?" He knew he had won when she smiled.

"All right. But don't think I'm condoning your little secret enterprise. I cannot believe James hasn't turned you both in."

"Prongsie? Good Godric no! That'd be like Slughorn actually confessing he wears those polka-dotted thongs at the beach…"

Hermione shuddered. "Thank you so much for that image."

While her eyes were screwed shut he murmured and grinned at Wormtail's approach. "Yeah, James swore he'd never visit that beach again! But you didn't hear it from me…Alright to go mate?"

Wormtail's eyes narrowed, deviousness replacing bumbling ignorance instantly. "Yeah, we're in the clear if we hurry."

"Where are we going? Sirius you don't have to escort me to the dungeons you know. You're breaking curfew as it is," Hermione asked, confused when he merely draped James's cloak over the three of them and led their descent. "Sirius, your tower's back that way and I'm late for my appointment."

Pete looked between them nervously but Sirius only laughed, "And leave you in the hands of those Snakes? Sorry, you can go to the next junior death eater meeting after Hols. Got those sticking charms ready Wormtail?" Pete's grin faded on Hermione's glare.

"Sticking charm? _Black, _I am not letting you…"

"Just for later, yeah? First we're tucking you safe and sound in your dungeon."

They nearly tripped on the way down three times, twice because of Peter's unsteady feet. Sneaky as he may be in rat form, it was well known around the school that he was not half as graceful as his pureblooded ancestors had been. Growing up, Sirius had often heard the Pettigrews described as the greatest disappointment to their society, just a hair above the Weasleys in fact. Of course, this made Sirius only more determined to include the awkward fun-loving fool in he and James's inner circle. Peter lived suffered the disgrace of his family name with a determination to prove them all wrong.

Sirius knew that was the reason he enjoyed Hermione's attentions so much. She was the most eligible, _bloody gorgeous_ Witch in Slytherin and it was a plus she just happened to be brilliant. And she spent time with Pete, hours in fact, trying to explain problems that came naturally for her. The fact that she had done loads to help boost his confidence hadn't gone past him.

_Yet another reason Prongs is a lucky bastard, _he thought as she walked tucked beneath his arm, her curves pressing into his side, Pete squashed on her other. They were all lucky to have her, for all her House's efforts to dissuade her from their company. He was glad she had found a balance but could not wait to spend the Hols with her. His grin curved up as his fantasies spun nearly out of control.

_Won't have to share her with Wormtail or Moony this time._

Pete whispered once the creeping walls of the dungeon marked their path with its eerie lights and darker shadows. "We're almost to it, mate."

"Why are you whispering?" Hermione found herself whispering back.

Sirius sniggered and reached into his robe pockets. "Get ready for this love because it's going to be a bumpy ride."

"What do you mean?"

Yet before she could find out he had already opened the shrunken object in his hand and thrown its contents onto the ceiling just above them. Pete made good, was ready with his charms and the enchanted objects took quick root above them. Within seconds they began to sprout and take root.

_Thanks to a little bribing with Longbottom…_

Pete laughed, "Its working mate! They'll never know what hit them tomorrow morning!"

Sirius looked over to him, his eyes maniacal. "Time they learned what it means to be left _hanging_!"

Hermione tried to brush them both off but he only held on tighter. "What did you two just do? What was that spell you whispered Sirius Black?"

He shrugged, laughing between his words. "Oh nothing, just something to speed their growth along is all. They're very sensitive to light you see."

Hermione's eyes narrowed in on the ceiling, wand at the ready and watched the strange buds already sprouting afresh. "What did you do?" she hissed insistently. "Sweet Salazar, is that devil's snare?"

Sirius and Pete fell into a fit of laughter. "Course not! You think we'd plant something so _dangerous_ on school grounds?" The false innocence in his voice only made the situation more humorous.

_Now if only we can just convince her…_

Hermione stood across from them, hands on her hips. "I am _not_ going to let you plant something that is going to hurt people!"

He glanced at Wormtail, knowing it all hedged on his reply and her reaction. "Well, I guess you are right. What do ya say Wormy? Think we can skip to Plan B?"

Pete nodded emphatically. "Sure thing Pads."

"Whatever, you two hurry back to the tower and let me fix this before you get us all in trouble!" She was concentrating on the plants, breathing the very spell Sirius had been hoping for all along.

_"__**Incendio.**__"_

_And that is how you make the worst smell known to mankind. _

It took everything he and Pete had to blow her kisses and drape the cloak over themselves once more. Hermione shook her head after them and he might have imagined hearing her laughter trail behind them as she spoke the password to her common room.

Pete was tugging on his sleeve. "She did it mate! She actually fell for it! What's she going to say tomorrow morning though when the smell latches on to everyone who walks through that hall?" Worry crossed the skin of his brow.

Sirius grinned. "Not to worry Wormtail. I made sure to put the protection charm over her before we left McGonagall's."

Pete was instantly jovial and matched Sirius's pleased strut. "Bloody brilliant! Now Prongs won't hex us to hell and back."

"Exactly. You still got the stolen goods ready for the Great Hall?"

Pete tapped his satchel and shared a wicked grin with him. "Yeah, I better check the map again. Filch was cleaning up a mess Peeves made near the Astronomy Tower, but he might already be finished with it."

"And Prongs said he'd wait for us?"

Pete nodded, grumbling over the map in his hands.

Sirius crossed his fingers and hoped for the best. If everything went according to plan then they would all come off scot clean and not even Dumbledore himself could crack this plot! It had taken a lot of convincing to get James on their side but it _was _his plan originally, part one of an even greater prank planned for the end of next term.

Hermione had been the only one of them who could cast a powerful enough spell to trigger the devil's snare to its even deadlier clinging after-odor. Sirius had watched her in Defense enough to know as much, no matter how much she tried to downplay her skills. Moony had wiped his hands clean for that part of their prank. He declared one of them needed to keep a squeaky clean effort in order for the four of them to pass off his copied answers. And he still wasn't up to par, with the full moon being only a few days waned.

James gave in once Sirius showed up half drunk and woke him up, after a long night spent comforting Hermione, apparently.

_If she ever finds out he was the one who let slip her little secret…_

Sirius knew the Slytherin Princess was powerful. Partly the effect of her curse, she had shown too much aptitude in all their shared classes for him to play completely dumb. But James had gushed to him that night, half crazed himself with some secret troubles.

"_She's so bloody brilliant, Padfoot. No one has any clue, 'cept Uncle Albus maybe. Her magic's unlike anything I've ever seen and I've never met a Witch her age that uses wordless spells so easily."_

"Shit." Pete whispered before stuffing the map back into his pocket. Sirius's hair stood on end as they caught the approach of shadows curving around the next turn.

He seethed, "Why didn't you warn me we had visitors?"

"Was too busy watching Filch."

"Get against the wall in the cloak and shut up. They can't know we're here."

Freezing into the nearest alcove, the two Marauders held their breath and waited.

"_**Oblitesco,**_" Peter whispered, casting the concealment charm over them just in case.

Sirius' fingers clenched around the worn wood of his wand, third finger twitching out of habit. His canine Animagus senses gave him a heightened awareness, that warned him of the potential trouble approaching. The voices were dis-comfortingly familiar.

Three dark cloaks finally arrived around the bend and paused just a meter before their hiding place. Even with their voices hushed, it was easy to tell the identity of blokes you had been raised to befriend or in his case, hate.

Rosier grumbled to the taller of his two companions, "I don't like this, Severus. He's been overly eager to turn her ever since Hogsmeade. I don't know if it's wise to try anything over the Holidays."

"Let Malfoy deal with his temper for now, Rosier," Snivellus began. Sirius made an effort not to expose them right there and then. He was more than ready to hex the bastards' balls off. This deep welled hatred between them went far beyond the Snake's efforts to steal Prongs's Lily last term. Now it was personal.

The thus far silent Snake laughed, "Least we'll finally get to put Potter in his place! He should know better than to touch our Witches!"

_To hell with it_!

Sirius shocked Wormtail then by jumping from beneath the cape, out of the shadows and charm and roared aloud, causing the three Slytherins to jump, "Let me wash that shit out of your tongue Travers!"

"Black!" Snivellus sneered. "Shut up before you discover how in over your head you truly are."

"Want to bet on that?" Sirius barked a laugh, eyes wild. At that moment, he could have cared less he was outnumbered three to one. His self-control had snapped the moment they brought _her_ into their plans.

"Are you truly mad as they say, Black? At least your brother knows how to keep his trap shut!" Rosier laughed at his two companions.

Sirius only grinned. "No worse than you inbred bitches." When Rosier's face began to turn purple his adrenaline spiked up another notch. Sirius _wanted_ them to try and hex him, he _wanted _them to lose it, just to give him the chance to show what he'd been holding back all term.

Severus, however, stood between them and held up his wand parallel with Sirius's neck, black eyes cold as he'd ever seen them. "Enough Rosier, before you do something I shall regret. It is plain to see Black wants you to curse him. Let us not oblige him this time."

"What? Afraid I'll humiliate you _again_ Snivellus?" Sirius' finger twitched against his wand as his lips twitched into a smug grin. Severus paled at the mention of _that _night. James felt remorse over what they did to Snivellus. Remus nearly lost it when he came to the morning after the full moon, and the morning after the night he nearly killed Severus. Sirius pretended he felt guilty right along with Prongs, only to appease him. They may have been careless in their planning, but he had every intention of Snape getting his that day.

_And I'd do it again if I could, _was the message he silently conveyed to the sallow faced Halfblood.

Lips pinching together, creased in momentary fear and disgust, Snape growled low, "Get back to the common room…"

"But Severus…"

"Now," was his soft command.

Sirius's smirk dug deeper into his perfectly sculpted cheeks. _Even better_.

The other two glanced back, ready for the combustion of magical energy pulsing between the two Wizards.

Sirius taunted, "Come on, do it. You and I both knew it would come down to this. Don't think I don't know."

Severus paled further though his grip never faltered. "Do not presume you know anything of my affairs, _Black_."

Sirius laughed and shook off his disgust. "I know what you did to my brother when he joined the Dark Bastard's Little Bitches club. I saw how scared he was during Hols that year when we went home. Don't think I forgot you were the one who recruited him in the first place." Throughout his tirade, Snape kept a mask of calm indifference that was just itching to be hexed away.

"Do any of us have any real choice, Black?"

Sirius laughed, "Bullshit!" The words were on his lips, his wand swishing in the perfect dance. Snape's eyes widened and Sirius wondered why he wasn't preparing to fight back, wondered why the hatred was barely present in his enemy's eyes, until a high pitched screech assailed them.

"_BLACK! PUT YOUR WAND AWAY THIS INSTANT!_" Evans came flying in between them, her red mane a wall of fire in her wake. It settled around her face a liquid curtain.

To his confusion. she put her back to Snivellus, her want point so near his the ends nearly brushed. Her emerald eyes were wide, chest puffing in and out dramatically as she clearly sought to control herself. "Don't think I won't take away points from both your houses for this! Do it now!"

He scowled at her, hesitating before complying. "For once, this has nothing to do with you Evans!"

"I don't care!" She advanced after a sharp glare over her shoulder. "That goes for you too, Snape! Now, I would much rather not take away points from my own House. So I suggest you go back to the tower. With how many points you _Marauders_ have earned yourselves of late and Potter's recent poor performance in the pitch, I'd be more worried if I was you."

Sirius shoved his wand in his back pocket and gruffly turned away, but not before calling back, "What the hell Evans! You know if I didn't know any better I'd say you were protecting Snivellus instead of me!" At her suddenly drawn expression he barked a laugh, his suspicions long last confirmed. "Ah, I see… you know, I'd get to know that boyfriend of yours a bit better before you hand over the last of your self-respect."

She bowed her head and Sirius didn't bother to finish the conversation. He didn't turn around to see what she told the Death Eater behind her and at this point didn't care. It was everything he could manage to put the moment out of his mind and focus on the prank ahead.

_Hopefully Pete managed to carry on…good thing Moony wasn't around for that…or Prongs…especially Prongs. _

He shuddered at the thought of how James would have taken all of this in, before Hermione came to them. He smiled. The dark cloud that had obscured his vision was replaced by a soft light. At least he knew enough now to warn her about the Snakes, or at least, keep his own eye out for what they may have planned. Then the disturbing thought crossed his mind.

_Why would Voldemort be interested in Hermione?_

* * *

Lily practically dragged Severus into their special place as soon as Black's steps faded. Her hands trembled as she set the necessary protective charms over the door and lit the everlasting candles they had found, in one of the crates their abandoned classroom supplied. Over the past few weeks, they had turned the place into their own little sanctuary, until it looked quite the opposite from its sad state before.

The desks were transfigured into study tables, soft chairs, and a rather long comfy couch instead. Professor Flitwick had often hinted that she was the most gifted Witch with Charms he had seen the whole of his career thus far. This abandoned room was proof of her unsung brilliance.

Not that she agreed with his praise. She had always needed to know more, to be better, to reach her goals. Someday, she hoped to teach at Hogwarts, in Flitwick's place, if not as his assistant.

During the long study hours she and Severus had spent in secret together here, she learned for the first time, it was a dream they shared. Only here did Lily feel they could completely be themselves, for her because of her endless Head Girl duties, for him because of what might happen to both of them if they were discovered. Both savored the only home they felt secure and safe in the Wizarding World. Neither of their Muggle homes were exactly open to what they had become. For so long it had been the two of them, together, against a brave new world.

_"No one must know, Lily,"_ she could still hear his voice whispering, "_not until after graduation. I could never live with myself if they hurt you, because of me." _

Severus stood in the now silenced and locked entryway, his feet hesitant to step on the red shag carpet she had transfigured for their comfort.

"_Does it have to be red, Lily?_" he had protested.

His cloak was still damp from the cold rain he had just come in from. She didn't want to know why he had been on the school grounds at this time of night. Before Sirius showed up out of nowhere, she had seen him come in through a secret passage with Travers and Rosier. He had once told her she didn't want to know where they went on nights like these.

He always looked weary after the meetings. Tonight, his shoulders slumped and his head was hung so the slick black strands shielded his expression. He was so tall and thin, just the way that Lily had always loved. To see him like this broke her. She hadn't seen him this defeated since they were children, since they would come to the tree where they first met and he tried to hide his bruises from her eyes.

Her anger over hearing Sirius's harsh words abated the closer she approached her best friend. She knew if she rushed him he would stiffen and shut her out completely, so she tread softly, slipped her feet out of her trainers and set her cloak to the side with her wand. When she stepped into his space, his eyes flickered briefly over her, drank in the sight of her even as it pained him to be close to her now.

_"If you knew the things I had done, Lily, the things I'm still going to do…"_

He had tried to warn her, of the life she was agreeing to by loving him.

Lily slid her long fingers up his cloak and parted it at the clasp, brushing it off of his shoulders until it pooled at his feet. Eyes briefly meeting his, in their silence, years of nurtured understanding allowed words to be spoken without the movement of lips.

He trembled, grimaced when she let his cravat fall, exposing his long pale neck, when she began to undo each button of his black and white robes. The moment his hard lean chest was exposed, she covered it with her lips and savored in his sharp hiss of breath, his repressed groan.

"Lily…I…"

"Shhh…" she breathed over his stomach and pushed the rest of his shirt away to join the rest of the collecting pile. Her eyes flickered up to meet his, her hands followed the familiar trail up his chest to wrap around his neck.

Lily was tall for a Witch. Her eyes had always been nearly level with James's. They were now level to Severus's clenched jaw and she loved how he made her feel small.

He made no protest when she dragged his head down with a firm yet gentle grip. When she eased his strained lips with her own, she relished how they gave in and molded quite fiercely to hers. They claimed each other with each breath and every lingering touch.

Lily was a far cry from the outspoken, yet amiable Witch she had been four months ago. Severus had tamed her naivety with the desperation of his own situation. For a long tentative month, she had not been able to live with the truth, once she discovered exactly who he followed. The mark on his arm was impossible to ignore and she thought it impossible to betray the conviction of her beliefs with the inclination of her heart.

She was constantly at odds with herself.

Alice knew the reasons for her extended absences, why she had refrained from participating in Gryffindor after-Quidditch parties. Alice was from old, neutral Purebloods, who were neither for, nor against the rising Dark Wizard's agenda, but she and Frank detested the ones who openly followed him.

Lily was unused to choosing between her friends, but she could not ignore the way Severus began to waste away before her eyes. Their separation only led to fierce reconciliation, moments before that cursed Pureblood Gala in the Great Hall. It also led to all their clothes strewn about the floor and the moment Lily and Severus both discovered that sex sometimes did make everything better.

They used it now, because more often than not of late, it was the only language they could manage. It was the only reality they found bearable while they were forced to lead false lives outside of this room.

His lips were on her breasts, her legs dragging his roughly against her, closer and tighter. This was their new home.

Lily understood now that he had always loved her, just as she would always love him. How she had lived the last six years without realizing was a mystery she silently named, James Potter. She could admit to herself now that she had been attracted to James from the day they first met, had even taken Severus for granted the months before their letters came. Over time, she let herself be fooled by Potter's charms, even as she pretended to hate him. And she forced Severus to watch, to listen to her rant and rave over Potter's stupidity. She understood now how the blank mask he wore was to mask the pain he felt every time he caught her eyes drift to the charismatic Quidditch star, the boy who was everything Severus couldn't be.

It was the best day of her life when Hermione Dumbledore walked into it, though neither she nor Severus realized it. It was because of Hermione that James learned to finally throw himself at someone else and that Lily learned to see what was in front of her. It gave Severus the chance to know she loved him just as deeply in return.

She knew much more now about Voldemort than she could have ever dreamed of wanting to before and agreed heartily when Sev insisted she learn Occlumency with him.

_"There may come a time when it is your only protection, my love."_

She knew that Voldemort had come to Hogsmeade that day in October and that Hermione and James had confronted him together. She might never have forgiven Severus for keeping her tucked away in their special place that afternoon, if Hermione and James hadn't been there to save the others. But both of them worried what might happen if Voldemort did get his hands on the duo, especially Dumbledore's niece.

Severus told Lily of the power the Death Eaters had sensed from Hermione. She had dark magic around her even though she seemed unaware of it.

Things were stirring outside the castle wards even now, events were unfolding that all of them were powerless to stop. Lily urged Severus to watch over Hermione as best he could.

"_I think I know who I can convince to help us in this, Lily. But you aren't going to like it."_

Regulus may be a prat, he agreed, but Severus trusted the younger Black, who had as much reason to hate the Dark Lord as he did.

"_And he feels something for her, enough to secure it I think…"_

James would hate them all for what they had been planning, but Hermione would see their way. It was the only way, Lily secretly feared and prayed Potter would be strong enough when the time came, to do what was necessary for the greater good.

_Hermione will have to be strong enough…_she thought as Severus slept in her arms, after they were both spent much later. Though she wasn't sure of her reasoning, Lily Evans knew only one Witch was strong enough to stop the Dark Lord.

* * *

Regulus Black had been waiting for Hermione's detention with those two fools to end for two, equally dull hours. The Common Room was vacant already, as some of their classmates had gone on ahead to vacation at family villas for the Holidays. Some had left the grounds under false pretenses to carry on the legacy their fathers had unfortunately left to them.

_Least Mother hasn't been any more encouraging in that aspect._

He smirked, one corner of his mouth pulling slightly higher than the other. His mother had once said it made him look like he was ever laughing.

_Maybe that's why Sirius got away with murder and I got stuck with the most whippings._

He glared at the fireplace, let the Black Lake's green reflection wash over him from his shadowed vigil. He tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair and shook his dark hair out of his eyes. He tried not to think over the extended invitation his mother had hinted at in her latest letter. He knew Hermione would rather spend her Holiday at Potter Manor rather than their dreary villa in France.

_Salazar knows I'd rather spend it with her than Mum and Father._

Her features had haunted him again of late, much as he tried to block her from his mind. Ever since he first suspected she felt something for James Potter, he had been determined to steal her from him. It would be the best revenge against the Wizard who stole his brother away, after all. But when the time came, he couldn't follow through.

He was tainted by the things he had already done, unspeakable things as Severus called them and Regulus was starting to agree with his only true friend. It was because of Severus he was waiting here now, not his mother and not Hermione.

_Just keep telling yourself that Black._

He pushed his hair out of his eyes again with a flustered sigh. He wasn't distractedly handsome like Sirius or appealing as Potter, so he had a hard time believing he could convince Hermione to choose him.

Seeing her the night before at the Lestrange's, dressed in that tight silver number, had been the most contact he kept with her in months. Certainly he pestered her to help him with homework he didn't need help to begin with, but only because he wanted to keep the rest of his Housemates' dirty fingers off of her. A glare from his eye was usually enough to keep the snakes from biting, even if he couldn't help that she had fallen for Potter's cheap charm.

_He always wins, don't forget that._

Regulus didn't intend to scare the few Third and First years who had lingered after curfew. Slytherin was a bit less strict with their own, at least within their own walls. But Regulus had developed a cold, deadly reputation beneath his winning grin and enigmatic sapphire eyes.

_You're just lucky Hermione hasn't heard the rumors yet, thanks to Lefay. _

She surprised him when she approached him with a sudden apparition like appearance. Firelight bathed her in a glow that gave Regulus pause and made him forget his words so he could for the moment, only stare.

_What the hell is it about this Witch that makes us fall all over ourselves?_

What began as a game for him had turned into something else entirely, all because of _her_, of knowing her.

She looked frustrated at the moment, her mind obviously crossed between something either very funny or very troubling. She sat down across from him, a flurry of indigo robes. He noticed she wasn't wearing a cloak and wondered if he should offer his. Their dungeon was often the draftiest part of the castle.

_No…absolutely not you pansy twat, grow a pair!_

"Well? I'm here." She broke the silence with a delicate arch of her brows.

His grin was automatic, repulsion abandoned. "Yes, I suppose your Gryffindor _friends_ gave you enough grief for the night."

Rolling her eyes, she sank into the cushioned chair in an unladylike slouch.

He hid his smile.

"You have no idea! Because of them I didn't have time to see...anyone else...before our little meeting." She hesitated and he might have imagined the vague concern in her brief glance.

Casting a silencing charm over them, his eyes swept the room as he replied, "Could not wait to come to me after all."

"For two people who hate one another so much, you certainly sound a lot like your brother right now."

Eyeing her sharply at the unwanted comparison he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, "There is a lot you don't know about me yet, Hermione. You may be right about our similarities, but you can't begin to imagine our differences."

She shook her head, eyes softening a fraction. "I don't know what you expect from me. It's going to be almost impossible to leave the manor without anyone knowing."

He already had the answer to this planned out. "My cousin will gladly aid you, once you tell her why."

Fear flickered across the whites of her eyes. "Don't you understand why I can't? But…Dorea _may_ be willing to help a fellow Slytherin." Narrowing her gaze on him, she challenged, "Are you planning on telling me what you have planned exactly?"

He reached and took her hand between both of his, slipping a small object beneath her fingertips and smiled. "Use this whenever you need me. Holding it with the right intent should do the trick." She sighed and he held his breath, fearful she would back out now without hearing him out. And he'd be damned if he let himself examine why this troubled him besides the obvious reasons.

"I just don't know about this Regulus, I don't know if…_what_?" She tried to pull her hand away and he allowed her to clasp the crest to her lap.

Shaking his head, he replied, "Nothing. I like the sound of my name on your lips is all."

She watched him curiously, as though he were a puzzle she had yet to decipher.

_Feeling's mutual._

He walked her to her dorm afterwards and distracted her when he brushed her knuckles with a kiss. He felt hope when his touch troubled her. She did not trust him yet and if he had his way, she never fully would. He was not someone anyone should trust these days. But he knew the Evans girl was right about his Pure Princess.

Voldemort wanted Hermione. If they weren't careful, the Dark Lord's desire could quickly turn into an obsession. Regulus's mission was to see her claimed before _he_ could get his hands on her, apart from James's influence. Though frankly, he could care less about the spoiled brat, he knew how important Potter's innocence in this remained.

Someone had to lead from the right side of the blurred line, someone with enough incentive to make things happen. And if Regulus benefited from the arrangement, he would not be complaining either.

* * *

**Review:**_ Stab a guess at what you think "the plan" might be?_


	30. INTERLUDE: P1

**A/N:** _Welcome to the first new chapter in ADSM to be written in some time_! _I began writing this in hopes of having it completed before the actual winter holidays lol. I have little time to work on this story, but hopefully will find a few more stolen hours to finish it! Thanks to everyone old and new who has become a fan of ADSM. You're the reason I write. :)_

_This update is dedicated to Dri-Almighty, for being a major factor in this story's return, and to Kim Malfoy, for being the first to hint for more ;)_

* * *

**INTERLUDE: Winter Hol's**

**PART 1**

**Chapter 30**

**Yuletide Eulogy**

* * *

"What's this?" James plucked a three inch thick volume from the bottomless confines of her beaded satchel.

"Give it back!" She strained to reach but her arms were too short of course.

James snorted as he read the title aloud, "_Ophelia's Doom_…hardly looks like Transfig homework!"

"James Merlin Potter!"

"Mione Dumbledore reads romance novels! Wait till I tell the lads about this!"

"You wouldn't dare! And besides, I'm still mad at you for what you did to my Housemates' knickers! Floating all over the Great Hall! It was childish and ridiculous!"

He stood, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth, the only evidence he had heard her tirade and walked around the table, in front of the blazing fire that never wavered beside them. Opening the romance novel, he pretended not to notice when she jumped up from her seat and tugged at his elbows. In a high squeaky voice he read, "_Ophelia's milky white breasts heaved beneath Sir Percy's kisses…'Oh Horatio!'" _James laughed until he had tears in his eyes.

Her hair seemed to fly from its perfectly coiffed confines into vicious coils to match her temper. "Shut it! I already know what it says!" She bit her lip to hide her grin though it was almost impossible _not _to laugh with him.

With tears in his eyes, he turned the page. "_Come with me Ophelia, quit this cruel shadow of life. What life can be had but one we make together?!" _Pausing to stroke his chin with his fingers he nodded. "Not bad stuff…maybe I should take tips from this Horace bloke?"

"It's _Horatio…_" Hermione tugged at his Quidditch robe, hopping up as if she were dancing a jig by this point. "And I have to read _something_ in my spare time I've never read before!"

James's eyes narrowed down at her, paused between their bed and the table. Since they began meeting in the Room of Requirement for _study dates,_ Hermione insisted they do something _other_ than tear one another's clothes off the moment they stepped inside. Not to say they both weren't thinking of doing this precise thing secretly, even now.

James pretended to study but usually did his best to distract her, and was constantly coming up with new ways to do so. He'd been watching her study habits for some time and had his own suspicions of at least one effect of her curse. She never actually _read_ any of the books she carried around with her.

Hermione frowned at her hands and rubbed her thumb over the uneven skin of her palm. Her first memory of this hand was when it was covered in glass and blood and somehow, she hadn't been able to shake the images away.

"What haven't you read, love?" James tentatively asked.

Hermione tried to avoid his eyes. She heard him set the book on the study table nearby. She gasped when he took her hands in his and slowly lifted her scarred palm to press it to his lips. Their bond stirred, his magic brushing against hers and sending shivers up her spine. Her eyes were drawn to his, nearly against her will.

His passion was stirred because of _her_. He'd survived a Transfiguration class with her, forced to partner up thanks to McGonnagal's manipulations, just barely. It was a wonder they accomplished anything, let alone kept up the facade that they were nothing more than casual acquaintances.

_Swear everyone's out to force us together!_

This break was only one of two he was given in the past week, to be with her. And he had rather not waste his time with small talk. But, besides the occasional letters to his Mum, he was it on her list of people to talk to these days.

"So, are you going to tell me or let me guess for you?" James sighed, sank into his abandoned chair and tilted back precariously. His hand clung to hers. His eyes watched the battle in her eyes. "You know we're in this together, yeah? That's what Aberforth said, wasn't it? You and me, love, no one else, unless we want it?" He drew her closer, until she was forced to straddle his lap, till she couldn't avoid his eyes.

Her face crumpled. "I haven't been honest with you James. Or with the Professors…"

James nodded firmly. "This has to do with that curse blocking your memories doesn't it?" When she nodded he swore under his breath, "Mione I swear when I find the son of a hippogriff I'll hex _his _memories to the next dimension."

Her amber-stained eyes gleamed sharply. "Not before I do first." Pressing her hands flat against his chest, she marveled again over how she'd managed to make James Potter fall for _her_. "I remember some things…like every book I've ever read."

"Holy harpies…" He gaped, eyes wide behind his spectacles, as if the knowledge were too much to take in.

Hermione grinned faintly. "I was nearly sorted into Ravenclaw because of it, but the Hat thought I'd give them too much of a run for it." She blinked surprised at his sudden grimace. "What?"

"Do you realize we wouldn't have to sneak around if you had only spoke up for yourself with that damned Hat?" He tried to hold his glare when her fingertips slid up his Quidditch uniform. She shifted her open legs to grasp round his middle, began to place feather-light kisses up his jaw. Huffing a sigh, he repressed a groan and added, determined, "That's not going to work Hermione... I may never speak to you again!"

"You're the one who's always complaining we don't have enough sex. So shut up and _fuck_ me already."

At the same moment she ground herself against his clothed, already straining cock and James realized for the first time her little surprise. Her words went straight to his groin, which rose to meet her easily. His eyebrows quirked when she removed his glasses with her other hand and put them on the table. "No knickers?"

She smirked and when she lifted her eyes they were glowing a tarnished gold. "Took you long enough."

_She planned the whole bloody thing!_

James grinned. "Naughty Witch." And he was glad he'd cleaned off most of the grime from practice with a cleansing spell before he came. Somehow, he knew Hermione wouldn't have cared either way.

"Hey, easy on the robe, love! It's vintage!"

* * *

December twentieth marked the beginning of Hogwarts's Winter Holidays and the beginning of Hermione's respite from playing the neutral Pureblood. She had already said her goodbyes to her House, namely Desdemona and Pervincia, the girls promising to owl each other until the final Gala event of the season.

More importantly, the holidays allowed her and James to savor the desperate caresses and stolen kisses they had been craving. Keeping their relationship a secret was almost a joke to the Marauders. Anyone with eyes could see what was happening between the Gryffindor Head Boy and the Slytherin Ice Princess.

Only the Marauders knew the ice princess act was largely a facade. Sometimes, Hermione was so used to playing her part that she forgot who she really was. This was why she had been willing to risk her carefully cultivated reputation, by spending her secret hours with the boys in the Head Common Room. Were it not for Severus and Regulus's intervention, and the occasional cover up from Mona, she would have attracted the worst kind of attention.

She shivered at the thought of Voldemort's greedy gaze as he cornered them in Hogsmeade. They almost hadn't made it out of there alive. Life had become increasingly precious to her, the closer she became with her boys and her Slytherin allies.

James tucked her more tightly under his arm, sending a thrill up her spine when his lips caressed her temple. "You okay, love?"

Smiling, Hermione did her best to reassure him. "I'll be better once we're home." His smile took her breath away, for it highlighted the emerald specks in his eyes and accentuated his natural charisma.

"I love to hear you say that," he said.

She cringed inwardly at his words and the intention behind them. Regulus still hadn't shared his plans with her, not trusting the walls of Hogwarts to keep silent on the matter. They would have to meet sometime during Hol's…

She had promised Albus that she they would spend some quality time together before the final term, as well. But he had been forward in telling her, his holiday was to be filled with Order duties. Hermione once again wondered if she was wise in not telling him everything, even though she knew he would try to stop her if he did.

_Maybe that's why you haven't, Dumbledore._

She was startled from her thoughts when Remus exploded into action from his seat, grabbed Peter by his Muggle coat and growled, "I swear if you don't stop practicing that charm, I'm going to shove your wand up your _fucking _nose!" The beast was closer this time of month, beneath his usually calm surface.

_I can totally relate._

"Sorry, Moony, but if I don't learn it over break, I'll never pass my NEWTS and Flitwick'll tell my Gran!" Peter protested, eyes wide and ready to piss his drawers.

James laughed, "_Oi_, come off it Moony. Pete didn't mean any harm by it. Just think about those lovely forests you'll get to roam once we're home."

Remus blinked, the wolf behind his luminous orbs fading as he found control over his facilities again. Only then did he realize he was holding Peter about an inch above their seat, and set him back down. "Sorry Wormtail."

Peter's hands shook as he dusted himself off and dug into the stash of candy they had already purchased off the cart. "'s no problem."

Hermione smiled reassuringly at Remus when he glanced her way. She caught the stricken look in his eye and this prompted her to leave James's side.

"Where do you think you're going, Witch?" James laughed and tugged on her robes in a vain effort to bring her crashing into his lap.

Hermione waved him away with a glance over her shoulder. "You received enough attention this morning, as I recall." She was satisfied to see his ears turn a delightful shade of red, which he quickly covered with smug pride.

"Oh yeah, now I remember…why don't you give me another refresher, just to make sure I don't forget, yeah?" His hazel eyes were filled with promise, but she jumped out of his way and smiled fondly as he settled into a pout.

"Later," she said, returning her attention to Remus. Sitting at his side, Hermione slipped her hand through the Werewolf's arm. He flinched at her initial contact, yet almost instantly melted when she rested her head on his shoulder. She knew, somehow, as she often _knew_ things without words, that Remus was internally beating himself for attacking Pete.

James glared openly at his best mate from behind his round rimmed spectacles. "You know this is a one-time thing, Moony," he commented.

Hermione could hear the smile in Remus's reply, "What Prongs doesn't know won't hurt him, right Hermione?"

She giggled and turned into him, slipping a leg over his knee, "That's right Remmikins!"

James's initial outrage was eased by Remus's response.

"You swore you'd never tell!" he growled.

James grinned at them both before settling back in his seat and pretended to take a nap. "Aw, I love you too, precious Remmikins."

* * *

The Marauders parted ways at Platform 9 ¾ with their signature handshake. Hermione pretended to be frosty and aloof, disinterested in their boyish antics. Sirius had made an appearance just before they arrived at the station, his Muggle clothes askew, black leather biker's jacket thrown carelessly over his shoulders.

Hermione frostily asked him if he had enjoyed the trip and his expression fell with her words. He felt guilty when she confronted him like that, and Sirius Black rarely felt guilty about a good snog. That 5th Year Hufflepuff had been willing, hadn't she?

To everyone's surprise, Sirius's uncle Alphard was standing beside the Potters to greet them. Peter and Remus had already made promises to floo in for Christmas morning, yet none of them, not even Sirius, were aware of this holiday guest.

Sirius longed to pull his uncle aside and ask him why he would dare to tarnish his precarious reputation in a crowd of snakes. Even more curious, was the fact his uncle kept eyeing the Miss Dumbledore with more than casual interest.

_What the hell does he want with Hermione?_

Sirius was growing tired with this question, with worrying over Hermione, yet it was something he couldn't help. She was just too damned fragile looking and vulnerable, in spite of her frigid mask. James was too lovesick to see the danger that was drawn to her, to them both. They were too powerful together and too much was happening out there beyond their control. Sirius didn't like not being in control. He had spent most of his life under his family's control. Being cast out his sixth year was the best thing that could have happened to him.

And now, he was determined to make sure his best mates didn't fall into the same kind of prison he had barely escaped.

* * *

Hermione's eyes scanned over the contents of her letter with pursed lips and drawn brow, before pitching it into the curling flames of her fireplace. Shutting her eyes, she gripped the mantle and tried to find her composure.

_I can't do this to him. He's asking too much from me..._

Yet the words within the letter reminded her of two very simple facts. None of them really knew who she was, so if "You-Know-Who" found out, she would be dead for pretending to be _one of them_. They would find a way past Uncle Albus and the Marauders and she would finally find the sweet release of death. Then there was the fact that tied in so dearly with the first. She put them all at risk by her choices. At the beginning of the term, Dorea had been very clear with her about her instructions.

_"You must make it plain to see you are under their protection, but Slytherin will prize your loyalty. Regulus Black will look after you. I hardly trust my distant kin or her offspring, and yes that means Sirius too, but the time will come when you must take a side. Can you make the harder decision for the greater good, Hermione?"_

"Hermione? Hermione?" Dorea's voice called softly from the doorway before the lovely Witch herself appeared. Her rich silvery robes were accented in blues and hundreds of tiny sparkling jewels. The gems in her piled up hair were enchanted to gleam like the stars. And with her sapphire eyes shining so keenly now, Hermione couldn't help but feel her heart clench.

In the short time she had known her, Dorea had become her truest friend, in some ways more than James. Their weekly correspondence helped keep her sanity in a house engrossed in deception and intrigues. She was her mentor and her model and secretly, Hermione thought of her as her mother now.

"There you are. I half expected you to be out back, hexing the boys for torturing those poor pixies." Dorea chuckled as she approached.

Hermione's gaze visibly darkened. "Oh, that's already been taken care of." The boys were going to find out the pixies they were tasked with removing from the woodshed to be a bit more resilient than usual.

Dorea laughed, patting her cheek with a slightly trembling hand. "That's my girl."

Standing so closely, Hermione was able to see what she feared from the moment she first felt the glitch in Dorea's magic. The complex weaving of magic upheld her timeless beauty. Yet for the first time, she was able to push against the mask. If she gave even a little effort, Hermione was certain she could pierce through and discover what Lady Potter was hiding.

Instead of asking one of the House Elves, Dorea had insisted on helping Hermione prepare for the final Gala event herself. While she tapped her wand over her head, twisting her hair into braids and piles of jewel clasped ringlets, she coached, "You must always be aware of their eyes on you. You shall be both eyes and ears for my darling Jamie. He's not the most observant of Wizards when his heart's been captured."

Hermione smiled, for the moment distracted from Dorea's secret. Outwardly she listened, offering neutral, polite responses, just as Dorea had taught her. Inwardly, however, her mind turned back to the letter she had sent to the flames minutes ago.

Dorea knew of their plan. She was the only other person Hermione trusted enough to understand, in fact. But she hadn't told her everything. She hadn't told her that she and James had become _intimate_. And now that things were being set in motion, she could only hope the others would be able to understand.

"I don't know if I can go through with this..." Hermione confessed in a hoarse voice.

Dorea grimaced at her reflection and finished tying the ribbon holding up the Dumbledore family crest. "You _will_ go through with this, my dear. What's more, you shall show them all the best damned performance they've ever seen."

* * *

Guests had begun to arrive, their voices mingling in the foray. Hermione watched from her balcony. She much preferred the stars and forest near Godric's Hollow to the hubbub downstairs. And she needed a moment's peace, a moment where she could be herself, before she had to face _him_. No doubt he would be present tonight...

"What are you doing hiding up here, love?" James said, jumping up onto the railing before her.

Hermione stubbornly refused to meet his quizzical look. She felt incapable of doing much of anything at the moment, with her nerves so frayed. Keeping her eyes to the crowd seemed like a much wiser course of action. Especially when the ancient magic that had formed their bond, made hiding things from James especially difficult.

When he pulled at a curl that had fallen from the braids at her neck, she swatted his hand away. Screwing together her features, she said, "Not now, James."

He pulled away abruptly and she could instantly feel the downward spiraling of his emotions through their bond. This was enough to pull her out of her self-absorbed stupor, enough to draw her eyes to him.

James stared out the window opposite them, to the mad world that threatened everything they believed in.

Hermione had done her best to chase away the shadows she often caught creeping into his hazel eyes. Lately, she hadn't been doing such a fair job of it, however. Biting her lower lip, she pushed his knees further apart and settled between them.

Now that she was actually paying attention, she noticed all the finer details she'd missed before. How his cravat and cuffs looked especially starched for the occasion, set off by the Potter crest embedded into the fabric. His naturally unruly hair had been partially tamed by magical hair products and his often stubble coated cheeks were clean-shaven. He smelled like the wind and the rain he, no doubt, flew in earlier this morning. He smelled like home. It made her want to weep.

Slowly, she eased her gloved hands up his chest and slipped them into his dress robes.

His scowl deepened, a muscle in his jaw clenching as she leaned in closer.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, pressing her forehead to his strong chin. Sighing, she continued, "I'm afraid once we show up, it will start all over again; the whispers and rumors, the threats. James, I'm trying so hard to be strong, to be the Slytherin your mother wants me to be. But sometimes I just wish we could leave everything. Go to some Muggle city where no one knows our name and start over together. I wish we didn't have to care about this damned war. I just want _you_."

James came to life at her admission and promptly pushed her away. Hermione steeled herself for rejection, but only found love shining through the eyes waiting for her to meet them.

He smiled darkly as he said, "We're stronger together than apart. Remember what Aberforth said? We face this together and live another day. I'm betting on us, no matter what the outcome of this war is, even if we have to die together. I would rather spend my last moments fighting with you than trade for any quiet life we might have had."

She smiled through her tears, shocked at how easily he managed to move her. She thought that in her former life, she must have been an emotional Witch after all. "You make it sound so easy, James."

"It _is_ easy," he replied vehemently, hands clutching her, lips ghosting over hers. "Any time you want to get away from those tossers, just squeeze my crotch under the table or do something else naughty."

"_James Merlin Potter_!" Hermione screeched under her breath. Pushing out of his embrace she tried to be outraged by his rich laughter. "That is not funny."

"Oh but it is!" he disagreed, drawing her so closer so she could feel the stirrings of his desire for her. "I love it when you talk dirty, Witch."

Hermione gasped, "We don't have time! They'll be expecting us any minute!"

James grinned and dipped his head to kiss the skin above the pulse in her neck, "Though you wanted to wait before we went down? Course I could go _down _right now if you don't mind..."

"James!" Hermione stung him with a light stinging hex. He grinned devilishly at her, his gaze darkening further as he pulled back.

"Naughty Witch. You'll pay for that later."

"Not now!" She groaned when he started in on her again.

"Give me one reason why not?" He held up a finger between them, eyebrows dancing merrily as he added, "That has nothing to do with everyone else in this house."

"Your parents are attending tonight, for starters, you prat," she said, ignoring him. "And secondly..." She couldn't continue when their bond sent her slivers of his hidden mirth. She snorted, then covered her mouth with surprise at her laughter. James's eyes crinkled at the corners and soon they were both giggling like schoolchildren, instead of kick ass Death Eater fighters-in-training.

"Welcome everyone, to the final event of this season's Gala!" Charlus's voice boomed over the ballroom, effectively silencing the crowd's dull roar and James and Hermione's failed tryst.

"As most of you are aware, this ball is the final event in a longstanding tradition among our people. For generations, we have upheld the right to honor our children and so we must be even more vigilant, so they may honor their children one day, as well..."

Hermione hissed as she caught the Slytherin families wearing veiled glares. "Be careful, Charlus," she whispered on exhale.

"Don't worry, love. Pop's got a way about him. It's the silver-hair-effect. Makes everything he says sounds like sage advice instead of anarchy," James chuckled against her ear.

Hermione rolled her eyes, returning her focus on her addlepated boyfriend. "James, you don't understand. Everything a Slytherin says or doesn't say, means something. To half the people here tonight, your father practically shouted where his loyalties lie!"

His eyes flickered briefly with a darker emotion from behind his spectacles. But he pulled her closer, as if to convince himself and said, "No one's taking any of you away from me. Now enough about those snakes. I need my little lioness tonight, Mione, not the serpent. I know you've got the makings of a Gryffindor inside you. You just need some coaxing to wake her up, is all."

"I haven't felt very brave, not since I woke up to the sound of your voice," she replied with a twist of a grin, eyes searching his. "I hope your family knows what they're doing, is all. No doubt Dorea will give him an ear full, later." Turning her attention to the crowd, her eyes bugged as she recognized where Charlus's speech had turned. "Oh bullocks! He's announcing us!"

"Huh?" James asked with a goofy grin on his face.

She grimaced and turned to find his eyes once more distracted by the cut of her cleavage. Slapping his roaming hand away, she tugged him off of the railing. "Come on!"

"-_my son_ James Merlin Potter, heir apparent of House Potter and Black and all estates and holdings there in, and his escort for this season, Hermione Ariana Dumbledore, heir apparent of House Dumbledore and all estates and holdings there in."

The crowd rose to a cheer as the slightly pink-cheeked couple, properly descended the balcony stair. When Hermione's gaze swept the crowd, she quickly found the source of the obscene whistles and cheers. Sirius and Peter were doing their best to antagonize the sensibilities of the older Pureblood class assembled around them. Hermione's brow arched and the corner of her mouth quirked at Sirius's hideous display. Pete was nearby as Marlene McKinnon's escort and, of course, copying Black's actions.

_How in Merlin's beard did he manage to snag Marlene for the night?_ she wondered.

James lifted a single fist in greeting, another obscene gesture for so prestigious an affair.

Hermione fought the urge to hide her face or roll her eyes. Instead, she kept her face a mask of control and tried to ignore the disapproval in her housemates' eyes. Lefay stood with the usual entourage floating nearby, a pleased smile behind her cat like eyes. Hermione's eyes drifted to find a man of equal stature and bearing and pale nordic features, cooly observing the scene just behind her friend.

_This must be Mona's father, the ambassador._

Wilkes was whispering something harshly to an older, less appealing couple behind him, while MacBeth hung simpering on his arm. When she caught Hermione's eye, however, she winked and gave her a subtle thumbs up.

Hermione's faint smile fell and she froze when her gaze at last met the dreaded source behind her nervousness and the author of the letter she had earlier received.

Regulus's sapphire eyes sparkled with glowing intensity as he lifted a glass and let his gaze drag languorously to her feet and back again.

* * *

"Ready to have some fun, love?" Sirius asked her three songs later, with his usual suggestive tone as he took her into his arms.

Hermione blinked and stared as Regulus again appeared through the crowd to meet her eye. She shook her head when Sirius addressed her again and noticed the couples already waltzing around them. "What? Oh, sorry, Sirius." She nodded and shut her eyes a moment before lifting them again resolutely.

_You chose this, remember?_

Sirius grinned, though she could tell from the slight furrow to his brow and the way his silver eyes slightly narrowed, that he hadn't forgotten the fact she was hiding something. He began to sway to the right and left and then they were off, twirling in circles with the rest of Wizarding Britain's elite.

Hermione glanced past him to see Peter rubbing his hands together eagerly as James whispered something in his ear and pulled something suspicious from his robe pocket. Her own eyes narrowed then, alert to what smelled like another prank, "What is that?"

Sirius's voice and face were the portrait of false innocence, "My dear Mione, whatever do you mean?" He almost managed not to flinch when she directed the force of her gaze to him.

"You know exactly what I mean," she snapped. "Please tell me you guys aren't planning on sabotaging this event as well? Dorea will _know _it was you! And don't think she'll forgive you this time."

Sirius laughed then, abruptly in his usual barking manner and his eyes shone as he gripped her tighter. "Of course she won't forgive me, love. She's a _Black. _But she labeled me off as a lost cause ages ago. Might as well make this night one these bastards won't forget." His white grin set off his darkly handsome features in just the wrong way.

Just the right way to remind her that in spite of his charm, Sirius was a true Gryffindor. He had not the subtlety his brother possessed. But at the moment, she would much rather be in Sirius's arms. Not the younger Wizard currently eyeing them as though he had been forced to swallow a hippogriff.

She nearly tripped on her shoes when she noticed Regulus had stopped in his conversation with his uncle, Alphard Black to watch them. She shifted her focus back to Sirius, determined to let him think she was more concerned with their childish pranks than the truth.

"Fine," she at last replied, meeting Sirius with a level look. "But don't expect me to cover your arses this time."

Sirius laughed again and wagged his eyebrows at her as he said, "You can feel free to leave those wankers in the cold, long as you cover _mine, _Mione."

Hermione huffed a groan, "Barmy Marauders!"

"Like you live, Prongs!" Sirius shouted over the crowd and instantly the dance floor turned into its charmed counterpart.

Hermione gasped and then laughed as the boys cast a single charm that in turn sent off a whole slew of charms, like a domino effect.

The floor appeared as though they were dancing on ice and lit from within. Snowflakes fell from the ceiling and tended to stick most on the Slytherins represented in the hall. But what sent the old biddies and gray-heads boiling with outrage was when the lights began flashing like a Muggle disco club and the music was replaced by Styx's "Come Sail Away."

"What the hell is this?!" she shouted, snatching Sirius by the back of his finely primped hair.

His eyes danced even as he shouted back in pain, "Oi! Easy on the hair!"

"Black!"

He shrugged and beamed up at her. "This is step one of phase two in the master plan..."

Hermione shook her head again and laughed at the reaction of the rest of the elite crowd. Though the wards were powerful enough on Potter grounds so as not to alert the Ministry of underage magical practice outside of Hogwarts, what most surprised her was they did so before their elders. And, as James jokingly reminded her once, there were ways of getting around Ministry protical.

Charlus and Dorea sought to appease the crowd while Uncle Albus only chuckled and bobbed his head along with the tune. The adults spent most of the following hours reversing the complex weave of charms. Though he was not in attendance, Hermione had a heavy feeling that Remus Lupin's handiwork was behind a whole lot of this Pureblood fiasco.

And she couldn't have been happier.

Because, just as she had been dreading the night ahead, soon she was forming balls of slush with her other classmates, excluding most of her house besides Lefay, MacBeth and Wilkes. Snow flew through the air and impacted with precision, while others actually began dancing to the music.

Sirius snatched Hermione by the waist to pull her out of the way of a huddle of Ravenclaw conspirators. Sticking to themselves as usual, the blue-dressed crew had already mapped out their targets and were taking them out with glee.

James, Peter and Marlene were laughing and had taken position behind the wide skirts of some of the older, distressed matrons.

Hermione gasped for breath as Sirius dragged her along and nearly tripped, "Wait!"

Sirius ducked then as at least a half dozen slush balls came whizzing their way, accidentally losing his grip on her in the process as she slid across the slick floor.

Hermione stumbled and tripped and nearly fell. She reached her hands out to brace her fall and gasped when a pair of strong arms grasped her by the waist and lifted her back up. She twisted around to find herself face to face with Regulus Black and flinched. Instantly the magic of the evening turned gloomy once more.

She wondered why he would dare approach her in this crowd of all places. She wondered why he couldn't act more like she expected him to, instead of being such a bloody Slytherin about things.

Most of all, she wondered why he waited until that precise moment to suddenly grin and plant a ball of cool slush into her face.

* * *

Marlene and Pete joined them later in front of the fireplace in James's rooms, as they were exiled from the rest of the house and threatened with house elf duties for the rest of the holidays, according to Dorea.

Hermione regretted enjoying the surprised disaster of a Gala event the moment after the last guest had left and they stood before the Potters, Dumbledore and Alphard Black. Like standing before the Wizengamot, she wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. Especially when she saw the weariness Dorea was cleverly masking beneath her ire.

James and Sirius and Peter had not helped when they kept sneaking glances at each other and fighting off recurring fits of giggles.

Marlene McKinnon stood off to the side with Hermione and sported wide eyes when Charlus took his turn to tear into them. "And furthermore, you shan't tell a single soul you were behind this disaster. A solid prank is always much better without all your cards layed on the table, am I right Albus?"

Hermione turned to her uncle and he glanced at her briefly before replying, "Indeed." They shared a secret smile. The adults left them to think about their misdeeds while they took a glass of port in Charlus's "man cave."

The Marauders had, once again, got off relatively scott-free.

Sirius somehow managed to sneak Firewhisky and Butterbeer up to James's rooms after. Hermione confessed to Marlene that she suspected he had a secret stash hidden somewhere. And the Scottish Witch grinned mischievously back at her and replied, "Sounds like my old man."

Sirius grumbled while toting a bottle and browsing through James's collection of Muggle records. James forced Hermione to dance and teased, grasping her hips and dragging them roughly against his. His eyes were dark with the kind of promises that said he wanted to keep her up late tonight and all to himself. She was starting to recognize this rare, randiest of all moods as his, "post-prank" haze.

And later, after Sirius had passed out drunk on James's bed and Peter insisted on taking his date home, Hermione realized her time had come to a close as well.

Marlene pulled her aside as the boys attempted to rouse Sirius from his stupor. After checking to be sure they had no audience, the auburn haired Witch said, "I never got the chance to thank you, Hermione."

She frowned, unused to the frankness in McKinnon's open face. "For what?"

Marlene rolled her eyes and grinned, "I never thought you were like the other snakes. There's something of the light in you, Dumbledore, that the others don't have. Maybe it's because you're _you_, or maybe it's because you're the niece of the greatest Wizard of our age, I dunno. But I knew for sure when you and Potter showed up in Hogsmeade and saved our arses that you were more than that." The Gryffindor further surprised her when she wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug and said into her hair, "There's more than a few of us who would follow you and Potter to hell and back, for what you did. Don't think we'll ever forget."

Peter suddenly appeared, glassy eyed but for once, looking happier than all five of them combined. "Ready, Marlene?"

She hiccuped and covered her mouth before glancing, slightly embarrassed at the Slytherin she had just snuggled. "Sorry there, Dumbledore. You're just so bloody great, and tonight was the best damned Pureblood event I've ever been to. You're all fucking amazing!" she shouted to the others and then giggled as she stumbled into Peter's arms. He laughed with her, although she was taller than him and nearly sent the both of them tumbling to the ground.

But they soon left and Hermione turned to follow them. She knew her uncle would want to begin their journey soon.

"Mione?" James called, rushing from his best mate's side to reach her in time. He stretched his arm in front of his bedroom door, blocking her exit and grinned sexily over her. "Where do you think _you're _going, Mrs. Potter?"

Hermione's lips twitched, betraying a smile she fought desperately to keep down.

_Am I the only sober one left at this party?_

"James, Uncle Albus is waiting for me," she said, pressing a palm to his chest. She fingered the buttons of his shirt, free of his Wizard robes, now revealing his undershirt and sculpted muscles beneath.

"Tha's ridiculous. You're staying right here." He grinned and breathed as he crowded her space, smelling of spices and Firewhisky and breakneck flights on the wind. She felt the effects of her three Butterbeers then.

"I promised I'd spend part of the holidays with him. He _is _the only family I've got, you know." She shuddered when he slid his leg between her thighs and lifted her against the door. That it was also creating the most delicious friction against her core was not lost on the Witch.

His lips ghosted hers and his eyes dilated as they drew nearer, desire and longing coursing heavily through their bond. "Two fucking days...if you don' show back here in 'xactly forty-eight hours, I'm comin' for you m'self."

She nodded and whispered, "Okay." He crushed his mouth to hers and she decided Uncle Albus could wait a few more minutes.

* * *

_**Review: What do you think Regulus wrote Hermione about? What has her so worried, do you think?**_


	31. INTERLUDE: P2

**A/N: _At first I considered splitting this epic fic into two separate fics. But then I realized how much fun a 70+ chapter might be ;) Thanks to mh21!_**

* * *

**INTERLUDE: Winter Hols**

**PART 2**

**Chapter 31**

**Blood Ties**

* * *

While most Seventh Years were enjoying their holidays with friends and family in their own way, Hermione was currently lodged in the very old, Victorian-styled, secret home of Albus Dumbedore, taking her NEWTS. She paused in her ink scratching and the parchment covered with her perfectly remembered textbook answers to meet his twinkling blue eyes.

He was trying hard not to show it, but Albus was very proud of his brilliant niece. He had already told her of his early years at Hogwarts and how there were times when she reminded him something of himself. It was at his insistence she had agreed to take her NEWTS early. And it was but one of the many secrets she was keeping from the Marauders and the Potters. Only Albus, Aberforth and regrettably, Regulus Black, knew of this latest development in her plans.

The bowl-hat sat just above the Ministry official's beady and curious eyes and his leather gloved hands smoothed over his briefcase for the umpteenth time.

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, she returned her focus to finishing the last half of her answer. For once, the memories of an endless library of texts lodged in her brain, proved useful. A deep seeded part of her felt ashamed for making use of it. After all, it was a large reason as to why she had breezed through the last term. Everything was too familiar and there were times when she knew things not even the Professors taught them, nor anyone else for that matter.

Hermione set down her quill just as the Ministry official spoke in a wheedling voice, "Time's up. Please set down your quill and wait for further instruction."

She sank back against the wooden chair and kept her expression neutral as the man pointed his wand at her scroll. With a silent flick the parchment curled into itself and landed into his waiting hands. He offered her a smile that seemed too forced and said, "Very good, then, Miss Dumbledore. Your scores shall be privately mailed within a fortnight, as was agreed under our contract, Albus." He turned his head to look over his shoulder at her curiously quiet Uncle.

"Hmm, indeed Mr. Planks. I thank you for interrupting your busy schedule to visit us during your holiday."

"No trouble at all, Albus. A Planks always pays his debts," the short man grinned and with another nod to Hermione, he added, "G'day milady."

Her eyebrows rose to uncomfortable heights as the Wizard entered the fireplace and disappeared in flames via Floo. "Milady?" she mused and stretched out her stiff back muscles.

Albus chuckled and offered, "Perhaps some hot cocoa is in order?" His robes shimmered against the lamp lights.

She couldn't help but smile as she took his offered hand and followed him into the kitchens. The single house elf, Stubby, was very old and very spry for his age. As they entered the little creature jumped up from his deck of playing cards and chirped, "Master Albus, Miss Hermione! Stubby is so very pleased to see you home."

Hermione giggled when Stubby wrapped his thin arms around her legs. She was surprised however when her uncle laughed along and darted for the cupboards. Stubby shouted and struggled to beat him to it and the two laughed as though they were life long friends rather than master and servant. She beamed at her uncle when he turned, relinquishing kitchen duty to the elf, a new found love and respect budding for him in her heart. She wasn't sure why it was so important to her to see Stubby so well cared for, but she wasn't tempted enough to dig around her veiled memories to find out.

In fact, the thought of her dreaded and best forgotten past made her shiver and gratefully sip at the hot cocoa moments later.

They sat before the kitchen fire and Hermione learned, through carefully chosen questions, that Albus kept this house heavily warded and secret to the public at large. It was a second family home, passed on through his father's side, though they had not used it after his imprisonment in Azkaban. She had been shocked to learn of this, and Uncle Albus was reluctant to share further details behind his arrest. But she gathered that though returning here had been painful to him at first, he used their family retreat as a reminder.

"One day very soon, I shall tell you the rest of the story. And on that day, this home shall pass on to you, my dear," he said with finality.

She grimaced, not wanting to think that a day could come when he wouldn't need his home. She glanced up at the lavish furnishings. Gryffindor's colors were fully on display here as well as a plethora of ancient magical artifacts. It was, if possible, more interesting than his Headmaster office.

"I always assumed you lived at Hogwarts," she softly mused, settling her gaze back to his. "Did you grow up here? With Aberforth and Ariana?

Now the twinkle had faded behind his eyes and he looked at her gravely as he replied, "No...that house was...a different place. Some rather unfortunate circumstances forced us to leave our home..." For a long moment he stared into the fire, lost to his darker thoughts.

Hermione knew these moments were not as rare as he would have others believe. And she was surprised that he felt enough at ease with her to lower his defenses now.

_All the more reason to never go digging about in the past, Dumbledore._

"Well," she began, drawing back his gaze, "I'm glad you chose to settle here. It's lovely." She finished with a sigh and another sip of her hot cocoa.

His smile was slow coming but more true than any other expression she had seen on her uncle's face. The effect took years off of his aged features and she could almost see the young man Stubby had helped care for. "Yes, and it is all the better, now that you have come home."

* * *

In the quiet sanctuary of her rooms, Hermione found a fresh note written on the paper James had given her and snuggled further into her purple covers to read.

**_Mione,_**

**_Dull as tombs around here. When are you coming home? _**

**_Padfoot was so upset you left without saying goodbye, he almost hexed me for forgetting to put my mirror in your pocket. Damned that I didn't think of it myself. Would save us a lot more ink!_**

**_Mum has eased up a bit on account of phase one of our master plan. Can't reveal any more about phase three, though, love. Since you're Slytherin and all. _**

**_Spent all of last night and half the day dreaming about how soft your skin is. Did I mention it's softer than clouds and not half so chilly. No I'm not just saying that to show off. But I have flown that high before, yes. _**

**_Shit, Moony just read that last bit over my shoulder and is betting with Pads that you're shaking your head at me right now. _**

**_Back to your skin...and your hair. Did I mention I love how fucking gorgeous your eyes are? I feel it right down you-know-where sometimes, even when you aren't trying to get me off. Merlin's beard, I write a shatty love note, don't I?_**

**_But you know I more than make up for it in person, love. And when we come to kidnap you just before dawn, I'll remind you how much..._**

**_Love, _**

**_James_**

**_P.S.-was kidding about the kidnapping part of course. Uncle Albus would have my balls if I stole you away. No doubt he's got some secret Dumbledore family initiation thing. Kay now even Wormtail says I'm rambling. Counting down the minutes my dearest and of course, one true love._**

Crookshanks chose that moment to appear, the half kneazle brushing up against her leg before hopping off the bed and rushing to prowl the rest of his new abode.

Hermione shook her head and pocketed the worn paper. She would write James something back later, after her mind was less addlepated from her NEWTS. Recalling all that information had dredged up glimpses of things she thought better locked away. Because when she blinked, she could see flashes of unruly dark hair and green eyes. She could see red hair and blood and felt the memory of sorrow.

_Stop it! _

Grasping her head between her hands, Hermione sank to her knees at the end of her bed and rested her arms over the stool sitting against the baseboard. She frowned and stirred when she felt the outlines of metal beneath the fabric. It was curious enough to rouse her from her curse-induced stupor and back to her surroundings. Slowly, she dragged the ancient looking throw to the floor at her feet and gasped.

A trunk, not unlike the one she was using for Hogwarts, sat nearly as high as her chin. Standing onto her knees, Hermione brushed her fingers over the rusted padlock and frowned as tingles of magic entered her fingertips and caressed her like a long lost friend.

_How odd..._

She fingered the keyhole and jumped when the lock snapped and fell with a thunk to the floor. Hermione glanced around at the palely decorated room and then, hesitantly, put her hands to the lid and pushed it open.

Inside, she discovered a sea of unique rocks, a box of family heirlooms and jewelry, covered with phoenix crests, several light lavender robes and antique dresses and shoes. And as she dug further, she pulled out a box, filled with scattered photographs. The sepia-toned shades cast a worn look to the youthful faces featured here. Her eyes widened as she recognized the face of Albus and Aberforth, albeit much less wrinkled. They stood together, teasing a small blonde haired girl with large, dark eyes and elfin features. In one photo, the girl crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue, while the two brothers laughed and wrestled with each other in the background. Deeper into the pile, the photos grew less and less jolly.

Hermione couldn't pinpoint the moment when the girl's mirthful face turned lifeless. Yet what troubled her even more was the increasingly somber family pictured with her. Towards the bottom of the pile, the photos of the girl looked as though they had been taken without her knowledge. She was older, nearer to Hermione's age and wore an almost frightened expression on her face at all times.

The last one was of the girl and their mother, both with drawn faces and large dark eyes. The older woman had very thick, bushy hair and for some unexplained reason, the image shook Hermione to her core. She felt as though they were looking beyond the picture. As if they could _see _her in this room, now. With trembling hands, Hermione replaced the picture box into the trunk and then hesitated. A thin, leather slab jutted out from beneath faded embroidery. When she pulled it free, she found a large _A _emblazoned on the cover and inside, a tight, precise hand had penned her story.

Hermione read until her vision blurred and she fell asleep with the book pressed to her heart at the foot of her bed. She was unaware of the pair of eyes that watched over her while she slept.

* * *

Ariana was on Hermione's mind the day before Christmas, after Uncle Albus left to arrange an impromptu Order meeting. When she asked the reason for this abrupt interferance with their Yuletide plans, he replied, "_Meet me tonight at the Hog's Head. It's a pub in Hogsmeade and my brother, Aberforth is the barman. Tell him...tell him to look for our signal. I will bring the others and take you home from there._"

Hermione knew something must be deadly, seriously wrong for Albus to abandon the _niece_ he so cherished on Christmas Eve. What troubled her even more was that he was allowing her to travel unaccompanied, when he was so obviously headed for the same dangers that stalked her every move. She had lived in the House of Slytherin for the past four months now, and was not naive as to imagine they _weren't _watching her. Even Mona's last owl had implied as much. And if she hadn't been so tied to James, to her adoptive name, she might have agreed to Mona's invitation and joined her in America for the holiday. It would have at least been far enough away for her to _bloody think_ without interference.

She hadn't expected to see the man, she assumed, Albus intended to portray her father, so soon, though something inside of her must have sought him out. Because the pastoral portrait in her room had been unoccupied, until the girl who was haunting Hermione's thoughts with her words, silently appeared and beckoned her to step inside with a crook of her painted finger.

"It's you, isn't it?" Hermione breathed. Ariana only smiled cryptically, sadly at her before turning her back and walking away. She followed the girl into the magical tunnel through the portrait, by means of magic she vaguely knew the theory of, she thought, and into Aberforth's waiting arms.

_At least now I know how Albus intended for me to go to Hog's Head._

Aberforth softly said, "Thank you," to Ariana, before the portrait focused her dark eyes on Hermione a longer moment, and froze into place again. Hermione wanted to ask him a dozen questions, wanted to demand to know what troubles had befallen the Order. But upon delivering the message, Aberforth nodded and gruffly changed the subject to food. They prepared it together, largely in silence, and Hermione wondered what reasons again, her uncle would risk sending her here.

Over dinner, they spoke of NEWTS, and the Dumbledore family retreat. Aberforth grew distant at her questions, and so Hermione tried a different track.

"I found Ariana's trunk..."

His sharp blue eyes shifted to hers, keenly. "It opened for you?" He sounded pleasantly surprised.

She nodded and twisted the Dumbledore crest on its chain about her neck. "Yes, and now I almost wish I hadn't." She thought of the photos and of Ariana's journal. The Witches name alone had dredged up some misbegotten texts that continuously tried to bombard Hermione's conscience. Eventually she had tampered the curse down enough to focus on the diary. What she learned was more horrifying than the darkness around her mind. "What-what the Muggles did to her was..." She trailed off when tears blurred her eyes and Aberforth slipped his warm hand over her own.

His eyes, too were gleaming as he interrupted, "I know, my dear."

She had only ever heard Aberforth use this gentle tone with her, and the memory of the girl in the painting. "Why?" Hermione wasn't sure what she was asking, precisely. She wanted answers, though. She wanted to know why the Dumbledore brothers, who could rarely agree on anything, had taken her in with such sentimentality, a stranger who was more than likely some Death Eater accomplice. Even more, she desperately wanted to know why she was even considering agreeing to meet with _him_ tonight. And how she was going to get away now.

Aberforth sank back into his chair, defeated. "It is a dark story. No doubt _she _has told you much of it already, if you were allowed into her trunk. You've read her diary?"

Hermione nodded, remembering how Ariana lost control of her magic, how their father was sent to Azkaban because he wanted vengeance and how their family was uprooted and relocated to Godric's Hollow, of all places. Ariana's letters varied from lucid to mad ramblings often and unpredictably. Her mad moments were increasingly sad as the dates progressed and somewhat frightening.

She nearly spilled her tea when Aberforth added, "I loved my sister...we both did," he added with a grimace, "but Ariana knew me best. We were neither one keen on the company of others. Best to leave the spotlight to Albus. He always came by it naturally." He paused and eyed her wryly, "And I see he is intent on making you carry that light into the next generation."

Hermione smiled faintly as she recalled all her afternoon teas with her elder uncle, and the barely disguised prompting he often gave her. She knew a powerful Wizard when she saw one. Albus Dumbledore was both a skilled manipulator and encourager. Had he ever chosen to join forces with the Gellert, Ariana mentioned, to use his magic for a darker purpose, the world would have turned out quite differently. She was thankful he had chosen to stand for the Light. He did not always mean to be so conniving, she sensed, but it came naturally to him, as Aberforth said, a kind of embedded, restless charisma. It was the same sort of energy she often felt coming through from her bond with James. She ached at the brief thought of him and pushed their connection and the ancient magic hidden inside of her, aside. It did them no good for either one to put strain on the bond. They had not been so long apart from each other since it was unwittingly made. Which reminded her of her other reason for being excited to visit her uncle's home. She needed to find the book that explained those mysterious arches.

"Oh, I nearly forgot," she paused and rummaged around her robe pocket a moment, before pulling her gift out.

He looked at her with an almost boyish grin and pointed. "What is that?"

"This," she said, holding it out in her palm, "is your Christmas present."

Aberforth held up the stack of parchment and ink curiously. "I wonder why you would gift me with something like this?" He arched an eyebrow, his lips twitching in effort to mask his grin.

Hermione smiled softly. "The pens are charmed to always be filled with ink and the papers you can use to write me while I'm in school. I can't understand why I didn't think of it sooner."

His expression lit wit her words as realization sunk in. "You attempting to keep this bloody old codger company, lass?"

Hermione nodded firmly. "Wherever I am, I want us to keep in touch." Her voice trembled and she forced it to steady.

_You don't know the terms for certain yet, Dumbledore. Keep it together._

He crossed the space between them and lifted her by the shoulders so she could hug him properly. She felt the tears in his beard and for one last peaceful moment, allowed herself the comfort of this most trusted embrace.

* * *

Aberforth had been reluctant to let her leave the Hog's Head, after Albus's warning.

"By all rights, I should bind you to that chair, rather than let you out there, after what happened that day? Or have you already forgotten?" he remarked harshly, but then, after meeting her pleading eyes, he softened. "Then again, I suppose it would give me reason to vex my brother."

"It's for Sirius, really. I can't believe I forgot his Christmas present, and he won't forgive me if I return to the Manor without it," she sighed dramatically and thanked Dorea for the acting lessons. He was only appeased after casting disillusionment charms over her, himself.

After donning her cloak, she fled to the dark alleyway he had first found she and James in, the day they danced with Death. And there, away from curious eyes, she closed her eyes and opened up the lock keeping her magic at bay. It tore through her desperately, coursed through her blood and every tiny nerve, so her skin burned and her eyes shot open to a world of even brighter color, sharper sounds and scents. In short, she felt _alive_ as she scarcely allowed herself, and somewhat out of control, something her inner voice was belligerent against.

Pushing that annoying voice in her head aside, Hermione tucked away her powerful wand. She didn't want the Ministry tacking her every move, now that she had her Apparition license. Instead, she thought the spell in her mind and felt the tug pull her to her destination. After recovering her senses, once her stomach ceased to dry heave, she took in her surroundings.

She had every intention of returning to Hog's Head before Albus returned, in spite of Aberforth's hopes of _vexing_. Silently, she prayed his mission would not be too dangerous. She knew better than most Witches her age, that when her uncle said _meeting_, he likely meant, _top-secret and potentially life-threatening mission_. Hermione also knew it was the sort of thing Sirius and James were hell bent on joining in with after graduation. She shuddered to think what might happen to them out there against the Death Eaters with so little aid.

The alley, two blocks down from No. 12 Grimmauld Place, was dingy and smelled of things Hermione had rather not decipher. Fortunately, he was already waiting when she arrived. A cigarette burned from between his fingers and lit his sapphire eyes before he flicked and stubbed it out on the concrete.

Soft rain fell over their cloaked heads and when Hermione stepped into his space, she caught a blend of smoke with peppermint and aftershave. It was surprisingly pleasant, her thoughts betrayed.

"Took you long enough," he commented with a smirk.

She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away as Ariana's face entered her mind, unbidden. The memory of her words made her even more determined not to give into fear. So she stepped closer, into his space and spoke firmly when she looked up to meet his surprised eyes. "Let's just get this over with, Black. I didn't come here to flirt with you, or waste our time. So before I agree to this, I need to see the contract. I want to go over every detail. I need to know what I'm agreeing to."

"You never mentioned that in our original agreement, love. And Uncle Alphard has it, besides. Mother has quite forgiven him for his little stunt with Sirius last summer and even Grandfather has agreed to take him in, if only to help me." Regulus's smile shone brighter still to her magically sensitive eyes, and she could see the pulse of dark magic coming off of him like purple smoke. He pushed off of the wall and loomed above her, still she did not back down. "Forgive me, I should say, help _us.__"_

Hermione stared up at him curiously, "Why would you want to reconcile family that has supported Sirius?" She pretended not to notice his sneer, nor the regret in his gaze as he ran a hand through his chin-length black curls. The move was so reminiscent of his brother that she felt chills run down her spine.

"I have my reasons," he softly replied, and then narrowed his gaze on her. "Look for us soon. If everything's been sorted, then we'll be by to collect you tomorrow night."

Hermione winced, but kept a strong lip and nodded firmly. "I understand."

He nodded to himself and his blue eyes, so like his great Aunt/cousin's, filled with pity. "Have you told him?"

Dryly, she replied, "What do you think, Black?" She didn't mean to sound bitter. She was grateful really. Because when he first came to her with his plan in writing, she had nearly burned the paper on sight and hexed his balls off. But his argument was sound, and some logical, rational side of her muddled mind insisted that this was a better, no, a _greater _course of action.

He placed his hand hesitantly on her shoulder, and the lines about his mouth eased even more when she didn't flinch. "I just don't want...I want you to know that you don't _have _to agree to this. It's not too late, you know."

Hermione covered his hand with hers, pulled it down and squeezed it. She forced a smile into her eyes as she replied, if only to cover the unexpected tears, "After what happened at the Lestranges...I don't want anyone else risking their lives for me, including _you_."

He shrugged and squeezed her hand back lightly, eyes lifting to once again check the alley for lurkers. "I'm already a dead man, love. Most of the others don't know it, but we all are, one way or another. I might as well do something useful with my position. And this way I get to confuse and annoy Sirius."

Hermione sobered, reminded of the Dumbledore brothers and the meeting she did not want to be late in attending. She sighed and stepped completely into his space, so he had to tuck his chin to look at her when she said, "I know I'm likely to hex you after tomorrow, but I want you to know I intend on looking after you, Regulus Black, whether you find yourself deserving of it or not."

He shuddered when she pulled him down and pressed her lips to his cheek. "Go home, Hermione," he whispered against her ear. "Enjoy your family as long as you can."

* * *

Upstairs, through the heavily warded back entrance to the Hog's Head, Hermione could already hear their shouts, even with the spell muffling their voices. It was rather careless, she thought, that they weren't more vigilant. Anyone could have been lurking outside Aberforth's doorstep. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately depending on one's perspective, she thought, Hermione was the one to enter the chaos. Past the short and narrow hallway leading to the rest of Aberforth's living quarters, she saw several figures rush past.

"-_bloody hands off of me, Podmore!_" a voice cried in pain.

"Hold him down!" another Wizard said.

"Where the devil is Pomfrey?" an accented and snarly voice growled.

"Dumbledore's fetching her!" a husky, female voice answered.

After that, another figure passed the hall Hermione was standing within, paused and then retraced their steps. Aberforth sighed heavily, his stern expression melting at the sight of her. Without another word, he glanced back where he had come and then rushed at her, hissing, "What kept you? They arrived twenty minutes past, and _he's _been detained, fortunately."

Hermione secretly found it amusing that Aberforth was grateful not to have to deal with the brother he had wanted to vex so thoroughly. And she kept Regulus's words in mind as she hugged him and apologized. "It took longer to acquire it that I thought." A strangled cry interrupted them and both turned back to the lamplit hall. "What's happened? Where _is _Uncle Albus?"

Aberforth sighed and, keeping her hand on his arm, led her closer to the figures waiting ahead. "It was an ambush. The Bones family was attacked tonight. They're alright, thank Merlin. Albus and Poppy are hiding them at the castle, but they nearly took the Prewett twins' arms off. And Dearborn is bleeding out. Nasty slicing hex. Never seen one like this before," he growled.

"Slicing hex..." Hermione murmured to herself, frowning as they arrived on the scene the same moment the hidden text rose to the surface of her mind.

_Sectumsempra...For enemies..._

She saw a text book and the notes scrawled in between.

"Hermione?" Aberforth was shaking her and when she opened her eyes she found several other Order members had turned to face her skeptically. Hermione blinked and took in the living area that had been so calm before. On the couch, two pale red-haired and lanky men sat together, holding their bandaged arms and eyeing one another before looking back at her. The table where she and Aberforth had just shared their supper was cleared and a dark haired man was struggling on top of it, as a burly blond man and oddly dressed pudgy man were holding him down. A Witch dressed in fanciful robes her Uncle would be proud of stood over his head, holding his face between her hands, and looking as though she had suffered a nasty hex of her own. The one who stood out most, however was the one leaning on a cane with a heavy trench coat and long, stringy hair hanging slightly over his eye patch and magical eye.

"Well, Aberforth? Are ye just going to gawk, or care to explain what that girl is doing here?" The rough looking Wizard asked. "She wears the family crest, eh? So she must be the long-lost heir. Given her a dose of verantiserum yet? Can't be too careful in these times."

"For God's sake, Moody!" The man on the table cried, "Will you shut the _fuck _up?"

Moody turned on the man in a heart beat and jabbed his leg with his wand. The man cried out in pain. "What! And pretend it ain't yer fault for getting us into this mess, Dearborn! It was your look out, wasn't it, lad? That's why they go the jump on us? Could have lost the Prewetts tonight, because of you. Fortunately Meadowes thinks enough of ye to have got you out. Merlin knows, I think you've been nothing but trouble since you joined the force."

Hermione gathered that these men were Aurors. How she knew this, she couldn't be certain, but she found her feet moving of their own accord just then. Without her wand, she pushed her hands until they were pressing into the blood coated chest of the dying man. He screamed at her touch and the others roared with outrage at her intrusion.

Aberforth kept them all back with simply a look and a simple warning, "Back."

"You're a bloody fool, Dumbledore!" Moody bit back, but made no further move with his staff.

Hermione met the brown eyes of the crying man and his agony suddenly faded. Her lips moved as she recited the counter curse, from the text blaring madly at the forefront of her mind. The others crowded around and watched, dumbfounded as the young Witch drew on more magic, until the room was filled with it and Dearborn's wounds closed up, until he faded into blissful sleep and Hermione collapsed into Aberforth's arms.

She wondered why she felt so drained, vaguely, as the others spoke over her.

The woman, Meadowes, said, "I didn't know you had a daughter, Aberforth...Albus never said..."

"She's not mine, Dorcas," Aberforth softly replied. "She's..." his voice faded and Hermione saw flashes of images, faces she should but didn't know.

When she came to again, there was less noise and softer, familiar voices speaking quietly over her.

Albus sounded strained as he continued, "-could you expose her to this. I expected you to keep her safe, Aberforth."

"What do you think I was doing? They wanted to shove truth serum down her throat and question her. She went after Dearborn of her own accord. Don't expect me to understand what happened. It was just like before. She could never control her impulses, you know that," Aberforth's voice grew more and more agitated.

"_Enough_...I wish to take her home now. She needs rest."

"She can stay here just as easily tonight. You're a selfish bastard for keeping her all to yourself, Albus. When were you planning on telling me about her, anyway."

"You knew all you needed to know."

"Like hell I did!"

"Shh! She's waking up...Hermione?"

Her vision blurred and refocused onto the brothers who, beside one another, so obviously belonged to the same blood and yet were so different in demeanor. Both wore identical expressions of concern for her, however, and she sighed as she stretched her aching muscles. Albus was right. She needed rest.

"Uncle?" She met his twinkling blue eyes and tried not to notice how Aberforth's face fell. But she mustn't reveal how comfortable she felt in Aberforth's home. For all her Uncle knew, this was her first visit. And he couldn't, shouldn't know about she and James's confrontation with Voldemort, or how they had saved the children trapped in Hogsmeade. No one needed to do anything more foolish for her sake, she had determined. Above all, she mean to protect James. Lately, she feared, that would mean keeping him in the dark about certain things as well.

She sighed when she acquiesced, "I think we should return home."

* * *

**Review: Would you rather be a Death Eater or an Order Member?**


	32. INTERLUDE: P3

**A/N: _The answers to many of your questions begin to unfold below..._**_  
_

* * *

**Chapter 32**

**Holiday Horrors**

* * *

Christmas morning was a somber affair. Stubby woke Hermione at an indecent hour, in her opinion, especially after the night they had had. She still felt drained from her rendezvous with Regulus and But the House Elf was too excited to notice and even managed to perk her up a bit with evidences of Father Christmas's visit. She ate an unhealthy, but sweet breakfast and Uncle Albus amused her with his candy-cane, striped pajamas and the morning robe that gleamed with patterns of singing bells. They exchanged gifts before the tree and Stubby declared it was the happiest Holiday he had witnessed in their home in many long years. From the way Uncle Albus was eyeing her with unguarded fondness, she felt he must be right.

She wore the new emerald robes he had given her, and the cap Stubby knit for her, when they returned to Potter Manor a few hours later. Butterflies fluttered and danced in her belly as they approached and she clutched the token in her skirt pocket, wary of what would surely happen before the end of the day. A part of her never wanted to leave Uncle Alubs's retreat and the eerie solace of Ariana's bedroom. She liked being a portrait step away from Aberforth as well, and reveled in the kind of attentions she wished she had experienced herself as a child. She wished to never remember her past, lest it snatch away this perfect dream world Albus had gifted her.

But the closer they drew to those familiar towers and softly puffing chimneys, to the glowing lights from inside, as they trudged through the falling snow, the greater her pain. She could _feel _James's frustration and terror and wanted to shut it out desperately, because it made her ache in return. She felt his desire and longing for her, and the sharp twinge of agony that pierced both of them when they were apart for too long, and remembered it.

_If it is unbearable now, what about after?_

Hermione clutched Albus's arm even tighter as they waited on the threshold.

He paused and inclined his head toward her, his cap of Christmas stars twinkling in the dim winter sunlight. "Hermione, are you alright?"

She jerked from the sudden pop of the bubble she had wrapped her mind in, feeling the tension in her limbs flee as she met his eyes. "Yes. I'm fine," she lied with a bright smile.

The door opened then, revealing the long, fancily furnished entryway and a grave-faced Charlus Potter. He made a failed effort to smile, "Merry Christmas Albus, Hermione. Come, come in. You both must be freezing." As he ushered them inside, Hermione quickly noticed that while the tree was still gleaming brightly as ever in the main hall, a larger twin of the other, less richly dressed tree set up in the drawing room, a shadow seemed to have fallen over the house.

She exchanged a glance with Albus before they followed Charlus further in. "Where shall we place our gifts, Mr. Potter?"

He frowned, distracted a moment before blinking and adjusting his spectacles. "What? Oh, sorry, Hermione. Set them out here, for now," he said, motioning to the tree that reached up the winding staircase. His frown deepened as they walked past the dining room and toward the kitchens. As they continued, a pair of heated voices grew in volume before descending back to muted whispers.

"Where is everyone?" Hermione blurted out, in a very un-Slytherin-like voice.

Charlus glanced at her from over his shoulder, "Sirius and his uncle Alphard, are _ehm_...discussing some _business_ matters in the drawing room. Peter and Remus are still asleep in the guest rooms."

Hermione smiled at this, not surprised in the least, if she was right about the faintly nauseous feeling she had had late in the night, thanks to her bond with James. No doubt the Christmas Eve party had been a spectacular affair of Marauder proportions. Her smile fell with his next statement, for he sounded nothing like the Potter patriarch she had known thus far. This man sounded tired, defeated and, well, _old_.

"Dorea and James are upstairs in the parlor. They should...be down shortly."

Albus and she exchanged another look and maybe it was because of the countless times he had been inside of her head, but Hermione knew she needed to make herself scarce.

"I'll just go and see to the gifts, then, if you don't mind, Charlus. Are the elves preparing dinner already?"

He paused and smiled softly at her. "Yeah, I _might _have encouraged them to speed things along."

"I think I smell curry and apple pie," she replied with a soft smile. With her eyes, she wanted him to know that whatever had darkened their spirits, she had every intention of defying. She wanted him to know that she was doing to do her damnedest to help them forget what she feared was troubling them.

And then she remembered that Alphard Black was currently in the drawing room with his nephew. Regulus's words came rushing back to her full force, then. _"Look for us soon. If everything's been sorted, then we'll be by to collect you tomorrow night."_

Charlus surprised her when he wrapped her up in his surprisingly strong embrace and whispered against her ear, "Thank you, Hermione. For falling on our doorstep this summer, for befriending my son and his mates and especially for letting my wife turn you into a younger version of herself. We'll need you now, more than ever, you know."

With these chilling words, he parted from her and clamped his hand on Albus's shoulder, the two elder Wizards making a detour that would lead them to his "man cave."

Between his words and the knowledge that Alphard Black was still _here_, speaking to Sirius of all the worst people to break _any _news to, Hermione again remembered Regulus's promise.

_I'm not ready for this!_

They hadn't even opened presents, and she and James hadn't had any time together, whatsoever. If she was correct about the conversation Dorea was having with her boyfriend at the moment, then Charlus's words made her staying at Potter Manor, paramount over everything.

_Regulus will have to wait...he-he'll have to understand. I can't say goodbye, yet._

* * *

"You can't be _fucking _serious!" Sirius exclaimed, for the umpteenth time. He felt like a broken Wizard Wireless, or one of those fab record players his last Muggle girlfriend had shown him.

"How many times must I explain to you, nephew, that things are not so simple as they appear!" Alphard Black replied, standing all of his extra height over Sirius that he was allotted. It had often been observed by the family, before he turned his back on them, that he was very much like his mother's brother. At the moment, he felt disgusted by his uncle, for the first time in his life.

Alphard chuckled and added, to himself, "The only Gryffindor in the family..."

Sirius motioned to his person, rippled Muggle jeans and the Who shirt he's stolen from another girlfriend's brother one night. "Oi! Standing right here, thanks!"

Alphard hung his face in his hand, showing just how exasperated he was at the moment with his nephew and heir. "Sirius, you must attempt to _listen _to me explain these matters, because I'm at the end of my patience, and you're on dangerous ground as it is."

He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as he lifted his chin and his hair fell from his eyes, "Yeah, well I'm just trying to sort why you're suddenly acting like a _Black _instead of the only decent family I know, 'sides Andromeda."

Alphard leaned against the fireplace mantle and stared at the popping flames, obviously struggling with his answer. "I don't agree with your mother and father, or _my _father for that matter, when it comes to most things. But Regulus's arrangement will bring honor to the family and has somehow united us in ways I never thought to see again." He looked up, then, pleading with his nephew. "I know you're disappointed in Reggie, but he is a better man than you know him to be. There are things I am not at liberty to say, as the executor of this particular party..."

"There you go again, speaking of parties and executors, like someone's about to bloody croak!" Sirius paced across the floor, sparks of accidental magic pushing certain objects to jump at odd angles as he passed them by. "I wish you'd speak plainly for once, instead of like a sodding snake. Your'e better than this, Uncle."

Alphard lifted his chin and despite what people had said, Sirius recognized where Reggie had inherited that cool, easy demeanor. "You would do well to check your own prejudices. Remember that just because you're a Gryffindor, doesn't mean you weren't raised to think like a Slytherin. And outside of those stone walls, remember that the rest of the world operates in-between the lines of right and wrong."

Sirius clenched his fists and forced the long list of curses he had learned before normal everyday magic, from coming past his lips. He couldn't believe this was happening, after everything they had been through together! He shook his head, determined to fight against this, if it was the last thing he managed before his crazy family finally did him in.

_Like they tried to kill her?_

He flinched and said, "Hermione Dumbledore is not some pawn you can play in your games. She belongs to James and..." he paused, eyes widening a fraction as he realized what he had been about to say.

_Shit..._

Alphard eyed him with a wry grin. "I know a thing or two more about this situation than you do, nephew. And believe me, if you were in the family house and had the chance to remain neutral, I would have just as easily chosen you over Reggie. Certainly it would be easier on her if it were you who was chosen. But you're just too much of a light wizard now, boy." He shook his head sadly and turned back to the fire before adding, "She needs to remain neutral if she is to be kept safe, that's what he kept telling me."

Sirius froze, feeling as though he were on the cusp of something, knowing he was so very close to knowing the grand secret everyone was keeping from him. He just knew something else had happened that day in Hogsmeade. Just like he knew there was more to this _thing _with Hermione than his brother was letting on.

_What are you hiding, Reggie, old boy?_

"I can't agree to this, Uncle. And the Potters..."

"The Potters have agreed that this is a wise choice of action, as well as Albus Dumbledore."

Sirius shouted, unable to contain his offence, "Traitor! All of you lot! Without breathing a word of this to James!"

"Nephew," Alphard cautioned.

Sirius brushed aside his retort and marched toward the door to the drawing room. "This has gone on long enough. We're sorting this out _today _and you can tell our bloody family to rot in hell!" He froze when he opened the door and stood face to face with Hermione. She was staring at him through those wide, chocolate eyes. Flecks of gold danced in their depths and brought him to shame, for reasons he couldn't grasp.

"I-I'm sorry, I was just looking for James, but I heard shouts and then..." She sighed heavily and he cursed when tears pricked at the corners of her perfect eyes. And he knew then that she _knew. _She fucking knew everything and was doing nothing to stop all of this. That's how he understood at last, that something was seriously, heinously, unforgivably wrong with the world.

"Shit. Mione, love..." he started but wasn't allowed to finish. Because she chose that moment to run and flee, echoes of her feet darting up the stairs haunting him. He knew defeat then.

He glanced back over his shoulder after and clenched his fists before growling, "_Fix this__._ I swear if I'm not the man, there's not gonna be a game. I don't care if I'm too much of a light wizard. I'll do whatever I have to, to _fix this_."

His eyes followed her retreat and he stood, immobile not knowing what else to do. Moony and Wormtail couldn't understand what was about to happen, even though they would as soon as they got over last night's hangover. Hell, he still hadn't got over his. But there were a few things he was certain of that were paramount.

First, darling Reggie, the dirty wanker, had offered his hand in marriage to Hermione. He was underage, which required the officiating of an elder family member in Pureblood circles.

Second, his family had let Alphard back into the fold, just for helping to bring such honor and prestige by bringing in the Dumbledore heiress.

Third, Hermione was about to be sold, lock and key to his sodding family, either way.

"I can put this off until New Years," he heard his uncle say, distantly, and nodded absently in reply when he continued, "After that she _must_ return with us to Grimmauld, or my estate, perhaps. But think through this clearly, nephew. If you truly insist on playing the part of the neutral Pureblood, as you say, you'll be sacrificing more than you realize to succeed. And you'll need to contest this with Regulus. I have no doubt he will make it supremely unpleasant for you. Keep in mind, however, that the longer we wait, the greater the risk to her. And word on the street says she is of great interest to the wrong people. Now that she is not under the escort protection charms, she is vulnerable to any Death Eater's suit. "

Sirius laughed bitterly, reminded of the things he preferred kept in the dark. That as much as he aspired to the light, he was born and raised a dark wizard, and there were some demons that were harder to exorcise than others. So he meant it when he replied, "I'd like to see 'em try."

"Regulus has planned this all very carefully. I know you have it in you, Sirius. Father and even my barmy sister know that deep down, you're the rightful heir and always have been. But what are you willing to do? How far are you willing to go to do what is necessary?"

"As far as it takes."

* * *

Hermione couldn't shake the look on Sirius's face when he had caught her sneaking. She should have felt ashamed for listening into their argument as clearly, Sirius wasn't keen on Alphard's suggestions. But the moment she heard their exchange she was shaken by the terrifying cold reality.

_He knows._

What's more, she could see it in his eyes. She knew he was going to do something reckless to stop them. And she was ashamed to confess to herself, that she was secretly hoping he _would_ stop them, even though she knew this was essential. It was the only way to keep the ones she loved safe.

Voldemort mustn't become too interested in her and he most certainly could not continue to perceive her as a threat. She must become unattainable, as Regulus had insisted. When he first came to her with the idea, she had been flabbergasted. She had laughed in his face and called him a child. He was nearly two years her junior and the idea that an underage Wizard should take on a fiancee was laughable.

_But not in Pureblood circles, Hermione_, she reminded herself. Fear clutched hold of her, chocking the air from her throat so she was forced to recover at the top of the third-story banister. She hadn't realized she had been running until she paused for breath and turned at the sound of a choked, feminine sob. Her heart sank. _  
_

_They know. They all know._

She wasn't ready for them to know, Hermione realized with shame. This had practically been her idea, once Black told her the initial idea. It was the perfect plan and even Dorea knew most of the gory details of their transaction. She hadn't trusted herself not to make an error in the exchange otherwise. Dorea had helped her see things more clearly than anyone, of the danger she and James posed as a couple together. They had confessed as much to one another in their recent letters. And she needed the elder Witch for her advice, for her understanding of how difficult it was to play both sides, to not simply cling to light or dark but merge somewhere in the middle. Hermione considered herself something of a Gray Witch, if that were even possible.

But what if Dorea hadn't realized Regulus fully intended on following through with their betrothal? Even though Hermione had no intentions of letting it progress that far. The truth was she was willing to do and sacrifice anything. Because a part of her still believed she had done something unforgivable in her past life. If she could save James and Sirius and the others, then it would all be worth it in her mind. And if Sirius knew, James surely had needed someone to discuss it with. She forced aside her frustrations, for she had fully intended on explaining the plan to him herself, before Regulus and Alphard arrived together.

_Why was he here without Black in the first place?_

A frown marred her stunned features as she recognized Dorea's voice then, coming from the den slightly ahead.

Her feet had already carried her to the slightly cracked door and once again, she found herself watching a troubling scene. Once more she was reminded that she had come to them a stranger and that, in spite of her feelings and longings, she didn't belong here with them. She couldn't say why or how she knew this. Like the glimpses of strangely familiar faces that had been trickling past the veil shrouding her memories lately, this too seemed urgent and paramount. It was this that had made her cling so tightly to the Dumbledore brothers, and make her want to follow everyone's expectations so readily, from the moment she woke to James's breathtakingly handsome face. And as time passed, she had found it harder to ignore the voice of that wounded inner and raging Hermione.

She knew the instant she looked through the crack into Dorea's private parlor, however, that this had nothing to do with her. Her endless circle of thoughts were wiped clean. All at once, Charlus's downtrodden greeting came back to the forefront of her mind. Was it possible Alphard had taken Sirius aside to warn him before hand for another reason?

Dorea sobbed into her son's chest and he grasped her back fiercely, his face buried into her hair as tears trailed endlessly from his open and disbelieving eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Jamie," Dorea said, her words muffled by her son's rumpled tee.

James laughed bitterly and softly, obviously trying to pull himself together. "You don't ever have to apologize about anything ever again, mummy."

Hermione felt like she had been stabbed in the gut with the child-like turn of his words and gasped. James looked up instantly, his eyes meeting hers with a turbulent force. She clutched her throat again, feeling winded for an entirely different reason, and couldn't fathom the curious blend of mad desire and need combined with desperation rolling through their ancient bond.

Dorea went rigid as if sensing a change in her son's demeanor and twisted around slowly. Hermione choked back a sob when she saw Lady Potter free of the layers of glamours and creams that had been masking her true state. She looked sick. Worse than sick, really, more like the cusp of death itself, like a ghostly shadow of the powerful Witch Hermione knew her to be.

"Dorea?" she asked in a small, strained voice.

With a weary sigh, Dorea blinked back fresh tears and stood on shaky limbs. "Oh darling, I never meant for you to find out this way." She opened her arms and Hermione darted into the safety they promised without question or conscious thought. She couldn't speak or hardly breathe. Her mind was on repeat, constantly screaming with increasing terror.

_No, no, no, no, No, NO, NO, NO!_

Hermione felt numb when Dorea pushed her away and slid her cool, thin and faintly spotted hands onto her cheeks. Her sapphire eyes still glowed brightly as she said, "You knew?"

Hermione nodded. "I've noticed the glamours for months."

Dorea's almond shaped eyes widened slightly, her finely arched brows rising a fraction before relaxing into a sad and accepting grimace. "I see."

James sat motionless on the bed but Hermione could feel a jolt of his irritation through their bond and flinched inwardly for it.

"Do you know what it is?" Hermione whispered.

Dorea shook her head. "At first we thought it was Dragon Pox. Healers have tried every potion and counter curse they know. They isolated it to an unnamed disease only Witches are susceptible to, and generally, for reasons unknown, a malady that attacks those with pure blood," she added with distaste. "All we know for certain is that I have been reduced to_ this_." She removed the younger Witch to motion to her bony and shriveled frame. "We've been using glamours to keep it from all of you."

"You knew this summer?" Hermione asked, feeling the scrunch of her forehead and her brows as she wrapped her arms over her torso.

Dorea nodded. "We wanted Jamie to have the best final year possible, and when you came to us, love..." she trailed off, her lips quivering and fresh tears spilling from her eyes.

Hermione had her arms around her mentor before she could formulate a proper response. Because she sensed, she just _knew_ that Dorea and Charlus saw her as one of theirs. It was the sort of Wizards they were, willing to take in lost souls with the sort of compassion that seemed to be draining too quickly from the world.

She hoped she wasn't all the things she feared she was before she could remember. She hoped she had been just as kind and compassionate and not...evil.

Her eyes lifted and met James's once more, and started to find the oddest expression of anguish on his face. She knew how much he loved his parents. In spite of he and his mother's surface bickering, they adored one another without question. And then she thought unwillingly of the gray-eyed Marauder downstairs who _knew_ and was willing to do whatever he had to to find another way for her, for all of them.

"Does Sirius know?" she directed her question to James and his mouth turned down into a frown. A flash of something passed through his eyes that she was too distracted and flustered to name.

Tersely, he replied, "No. But I reckon he's suspected for a while. Wanker didn't want me to worry, but I've seen the looks on his face, on all your faces." His jaw clenched and rolled slightly, his hazel eyes hardened.

"Language, Jamie," Dorea interrupted, fondly before wiping her eyes and smiling at them both. "Now I feel the need to rest before tonight's dinner. This day has been filled with far more than the usual strain." Her smile faltered slightly when her eyes settled on Hermione and recognition passed between the two of them.

_She knows_, Hermione reminded herself. She wanted to say something more, to offer words of comfort and to moreover respect her surrogate mother's silent plea.

_Not yet. I won't tell him yet._

Dorea relaxed, finally recognizing her answer in the brunette's eye. With a faint smile and nod, she turned and gracefully walked from the room.

She stood, frozen on the carpet, fearful of saying something that was bound to mince James's already tense mood. She could feel the constant flurry of his emotions, and was reminded that she had always known his moods were the most volatile of the four Marauders. He felt more deeply than anyone else she had known, mostly because he owned each and every one of his emotions, without pushing them away in fear. He was the truest of Gryffindors, she secretly acknowledge. She would have died if Mona knew this fact, especially Pervincia. But in the loud quiet, she could admit it freely.

Squeezing her eyes shut, steeling her nerves and hoping that he wouldn't see right through her, Hermione bowed her head and said, "James..."

He leaped off the couch and was only a hands breath behind her, grounding out his words as though they were particularly offensive. "Don't _James _me, as if you don't already know!"

"Oh shit," she hissed and jumped when he grabbed her hand and dragged her from the room and down the hall.

"_Oh shit_ yeah." He laughed with none of the warmth and joy she had seen so often from him lately.

Hermione's heart sank and she felt the familiar fear creep up again. What if Sirius had let it slip somehow already? What if James did know? She feared either way that keeping her promise to Dorea was about to be impossible.

* * *

He practically threw her into his bedroom and slammed the door behind them. No bright lamps had been lit and the curtains were drawn against the afternoon light. Instead the walls glimmered with scenes of the night stars, of the way they looked while flying high above the clouds. Very few Wizards or Witches were so keenly aware of what the world looked like from this vantage. James Potter was one of them.

Once she was sitting on his bed, atop the carelessly tossed bed sheets, her large golden eyes peering up at him doubtfully, he began. "I can't fucking believe you, Hermione! Do you have any bleeding clue what I went through last night?"

"I-James, I can explain..." she sputtered.

He stood in front of her, arms crossed over his chest, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. "Well that would be refreshing, wouldn't it! Instead of having to read your tetched mind all the time, guessing how you feel based off this _fucking _bond I never asked for!" His voice shook towards the end as he paced once more, this time wringing his hands, as if he were unsure where to put them.

Ignoring the way his revulsion of the bond had shattered her, Hermione stood, knowing he had every right to be angry. She reached out to grab him as he passed, then hesitated. "I know I've been absolutely horrid..." she began, miserably.

James reached for her and grasped her by the arms, sorrow bleeding from his green flecked amber eyes. "**NO_._**_You _haven't been anything but what you've been trained to be." He dropped her arms with disgust and sank onto the mattress. "I thought we had talked through this before the Gala thing, but after last night..." He ripped off his glasses and tossed them onto his night stand, even though she knew it made him half blind and glared up at her through tear-stained eyes.

The tears were what stunted her from sitting down beside him, instead rooting her to his floor, demanding her with the force of his will to damn well _listen_.

"I had to get completely wasted last night just to keep myself from flooing to Uncle Albus's, just to make sure you weren't _dead_."

_Oh..._

She bit her lip, then, knowing with more than a little relief he was talking her rendezvous with Regulus Black. Had he sensed her tension, and...other things? She was grateful the sodding bond didn't allow him to read her mind. What's more, she knew exactly what he was referring to.

She snatched hold of her hair and twisted it over her shoulder nervously as she looked down, anywhere but his face. "I went to see Aberforth last evening. There was...trouble with the Order and Uncle sent me over to the Hog's Head to meet him." She paused, her eyes growing distant and losing focus as she thought of Ariana, then decided it best to omit that detail for the time being. "Albus doesn't know I have been writing Aberforth, or that we've visited him since that...that weekend." Her gaze flickered to his briefly and the weight behind his weary eyes was more than she could bare.

Hermione turned so she was facing the opposite wall, staring at the beauty she would have been too terrified to look at herself, before James.

_Not that you know much of who **she **is anyhow._

"I stepped out for a bit to grab Sirius's present. Couldn't believe I forgot it, and you know how he gets about things. But when I returned, the Order was already there. And someone, a man named Dearborn was bleeding out on the table. There was so much blood, James. So much _fucking blood_ and I just remembered the cure, out of nowhere, it came from my head and so I..." She held out her hands to the wall. "I healed him wandlessly, without words, somehow." She shook her head furiously, almost hysterically. "I don't know how the hell I did what I did and it scared them, it scares me. I blacked out and I..."

She was sobbing. She couldn't stop and it wasn't until James's hands were on her shoulders, forcing her to turn around so she could cling to his chest that she let it out. All the things she'd been keeping bottled inside, coupled by the blow of Dorea's illness. She gripped his shirt tightly, so afraid that he was going to push her away any second. Because once he knew the truth of what she planned to do, he _would _push her away, forever.

James sighed into her hair and he spoke with increasing tension. "I didn't know what to think. And the thought of you being hurt or injured. Mione, you _can't _take risks like that. Not in front of _those _people especially. I don't know much about the Order, but I can tell you, if you weren't Albus's niece, they would have treated you nearly as rough as the enemy. And I..."

He paused, sucked in a ragged breath and leaned back, his hands cupping her cheeks so they could look into one another's red rimmed eyes. "Hermione, I can barely stand the thought of Mum dying...and you know that I, that I love you so much. It _fucking _hurts me to breathe sometimes, I can't hardly stand not to touch you..."

Her sigh fell into a moan when his hands moved from her cheeks to follow the curve of her back and her waist, to slide from her arse and up to graze over her breasts.

She felt the sudden surge of need, that same desperation she had felt when he first noticed her earlier. Their bond rippled, ancient and primal magic springing to life from within their own and reaching, grasping at the other.

James's breath mimicked her own increasingly shallow vocals as he added, pressing kisses to her jaw and pushing her outer robe aside, "I need to be inside you sometimes for no reason other than the fact I don't feel _right _when we're _not_ together. I know I was half-arsed drunk the other night, but I meant what I said. I don't just want you to stay with me. I want to crawl inside you..."

His words sank straight into her abdomen, to that place that fueled the liquid heat surging inside her and beginning to form between her thighs. Her eyelids fluttered when he sucked on the skin of her neck, swirled his tongue over her pulse and blew lightly. Her fingernails were biting through his shirt and into the taut skin of his muscled chest. She pushed his shirt up, needing to feel more skin the same moment he pulled on her dress sleeves too hard and ripped the rich fabric in a line down her torso.

His hands reached to cup her lace concealed breasts and his kisses lowered, his arms flexing as they lifted her easily so he had better access to her hardened nipples. She nearly cried out when he sucked hard through the fabric of her bra and then eased, swirled his tongue over the fabric until it was wet against her bare skin. She wrapped her legs around his chest, and sighed when he pushed her against the sky enchanted wall.

She thought possibly too belatedly to cast a silencing charm wandlessly, breathlessly, before her head thrust back hard against the wall.

"Hermione," he mumbled against her skin as he lowered her slowly against him.

She bunched the fabric of his shirt up and with the needed pause to collect some rational sense, vanished the offending tee.

"Hey," James protested, "my second favorite sh..._shit,_" he groaned when she lurched into him, rocking him so he stumbled back from the wall and she settled better against his trim waist. "_Fuck _the shirt..." he groaned, when she rolled her hips at an angle, up against the half hard erection tenting his flannel bottoms.

Hermione smiled when he nearly lost his grip on her, thrilled to see him lose control. She rolled her hips again, this time setting an unsteady and increasingly frantic rhythm. "_Need you_," she whispered, determined to make him come before they were completely skin to skin, "_inside me_."

"_Yes_," he hissed and grasped her by her ass, rocking roughly against her and rubbing through the fabric of her skirt and her slicked panties underneath, granting her the friction she needed.

She could feel everything he was feeling, and wondered if he felt the same. This felt more intense than the last time they had been together. It had been only a few days. _Only a few? _she fleetingly thought before she lost her ability to think.

"Need to hear it," he grunted as he leaned against his bedpost and tugged her up against him again.

She raked her fingernails down his back and he hissed at the pain. Their eyes locked and she gasped, "James..."

He shook his head, grimacing as he slowed their pace, this time digging between her legs firmly, using one arm to hold her while he shoved her skirt up and ran a finger through the lacy fabric to rub against her swollen nerves. A high pitched moan escaped her lips and his eyes darkened. "Need you to say it. Tell me!" he nearly shouted and his anger only aroused her further. She was slipping, losing the control she had wanted to strip from him. _  
_

But his fingers and his cock felt so good...

_Oh Merlin, _she thought as her muscles began to clench.

He stopped, not allowing her to finish, his face contorting as he fought off the effects of the bond.

"Say what?" she panted and gripped his shoulders tightly, dragging him against her with her heels digging into his ass. He shuddered but kept his determined, half-lidded gaze on hers.

"Tell the fucking truth, Hermione. Tell me you want me."

"I-I _want you," _she agreed. She stared at the space between them when he ripped her panties and then reached to shove the elastic of his pants over his cock and past his sack. It was leaking pre-cum already, something she had the sudden urge to taste. She wondered briefly why she hadn't yet.

_Oh yes...I want you,_ she silently reaffirmed, then opened her mouth in surprise when he hovered just over her entrance and stroked his shaft with his other hand several times. Seeing him draw himself to an even fuller girth, hearing his strangled groan and his next words as he brushed the head against her swollen clit, made her look up to meet his heated focus once more.

"I love you, Hermione. I need to hear you say it!" He was pushing into her now, so only the head was inside her and already being clenched by her quivering muscles. He groaned and pressed her forehead to his, so her covered breasts were pressed to his bare chest.

"I-" she hesitated, tears welling in her eyes as she whispered, "_I_ _love you_."

They both cried out as he filled her completely, until she felt she could stretch no further, until their pubic bones grazed together. As he pulled slightly out, using his arms to lift her, she felt him rub against that hidden spot deep inside her and she nearly screamed when he shoved back against it again. Their skin slapped together, his balls against her ass as they swayed and arched together. Sweat rolled between her breasts and down his back, budding on her upper lip.

Still their eyes remained locked together. She knew this was important, somewhere in the recesses of conscious thought, that this was important to _him_.

Her first climax took her by surprise and she stilled slightly above him, encasing him, milking his cock until he shuddered and with a hoarse cry spilled deep inside of her. The clutched one another, faces against necks, her teeth biting into his shoulder so he shoved harder against her and came further, harder. The bond twisted so that they saw sharper, smelled and felt with greater clarity and this drove them together again with fresh need. He rolled until her back was on his bed sheets, without pulling from inside her.

He hardened inside her again quickly and she vanished the rest of their clothes angrily. James reached to grasp her breasts again, rolling the nipples beneath his thumbs as she arched off the bed and drove him in at a different angle.

He groaned, "_Mione.._._love you_ _so fuckin' much._"

She smiled to hear his foul words. She never would have thought they could make her want him even more, make her drive him harder into her or cause her to do things like reach up to take one of his nipples into her mouth, just to feel him tremble against her.

She savored the feel of his nearly smooth and hard chest, thanking Merlin and all the Fates for the love of his broom. It had given him harder lines than most Wizards, made him taut and more flexible and quick. Before she knew it, she was crying out his name again, repeating his words like chant. "Love...love you James..."

"Say you're _mine_," he said above, his lips ghosting over hers.

Her eyes closed as color and light exploded behind her lids. "Yours!"

"_Mine..." _he agreed before he kissed her. When his tongue entered her mouth she came again and decided to stop thinking so damn much. This time, they lay together and took the time to touch slowly, to savor the moment for different reasons.

Hermione remembered, only after he was asleep against her breasts, her fingers dragging gently through his black hair, that she did love him, as painfully and deeply as he did her.

It was the reason for her every action and thought, and she was determined then, nothing was going to keep them apart forever. James would understand why she went behind his back and forgive her. Regulus would have to understand that she could bear to stay away from him, not in privacy at least. They would find a way. She couldn't live with the thought of anything less.

* * *

**Review_: If you want James Potter to apparate into your room tonight ;p_**


	33. INTERLUDE: P4

_**A/N**: **Shout out to Dri Almighty who pushed me to update, after a prolonged absence. Real life has been grueling and consuming of late, but I'll attempt to do better than one update a month this go-round!**_

* * *

**Chapter 33**

**Bound by Blood**

* * *

Lily ignored her sister, Petunia's words as she walked down the front steps of their house and out into the freshly falling snow.

"Don't even know why you bother coming home, _freak_. Always knew you'd get yourself in trouble, and now Mummy and Daddy know who was the better daughter all along!"

Lily bit her lip and hefted her bag further up her arm, determined not to cry in front of her sister. She had made the mistake of not throwing _it_ away. That's how Petunia found it in the trash and how she seized the chance to throw it at their conservative parents' faces. Their relationship had already been strained this past term, and even in the summer somewhat. It was just becoming harder for Lily's parents and especially Petunia, to understand the Wizarding world.

Ever since Lily started secretly dating Severus Snape, things grew worse. When they were children, Sev spent most of his time at the Evans household, to avoid his drunk deadbeat dad and his apathetic mum. She knew he saw it as his retreat and that's why his comment in Sixth Year had stung so badly. To call her that bloody word in front of what had felt at the time, the entire school, when he lived like a Muggle half of his life...

She blinked back tears, telling herself that they were for the memory, of the time she and Sev had lost together. It was all because of people like Tuney, and Potter and Black that had made their lives a collective hell. She wasn't going to forget that fact ever again.

A sob escaped her lips as she began to run beneath the falling snow. She ran until she could run no further and wished she had something better than a slicker and jumper to ward off the cold. She had been so damned angry and scared, yes, she hadn't put much thought into what she might need. She ran until her lungs were hoarse and she was standing at the top of the hill, beneath the safety and shelter of their tree.

Only when her fingers fell upon the old bark did she cry out and sink until her knees were in the sodden wet earth. She squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated on breathing in and out, on remembering the good memories. They met underneath this tree one beautiful sweet day as children, almost a year before they received their Hogwarts letters. She had wanted to show Tuney her magic, had wanted to share her secret that she was just beginning to understand. But instead of showing delight, her sister had been disgusted and frightened. That was when Severus showed up, from the branches of the tree, watching them the whole time. He had been dark and pale at once and utterly broken until he approached her. A dark look, too dark for a little boy's filled his eyes as he watched her sister flee. He was the first one to tell her about magic, and some years later, under this very tree, he told her she was the first one to truly love him.

"Lily," his deep voice fell over her ears and she shivered and lifted her chin to look at him. His black eyes were still haunted and slightly broken. His clothes were still second hand at best, but he found ways to fill them out and make them look even better. Today, underneath the familiar cloak, he wore a Muggle Tee and jeans that were tucked into his combat boots. It was the Severus she knew, the real Severus he rarely showed anyone else. All he had to do was say her name and she jumped up and buried herself in his arms.

"Sev," she choked as she shook. He was warm as usual, surprising for someone who preferred the Slytherin dungeons. And he smelled faintly of smoke and magic and potions. The latter was something that she shared with him, a passion for the formula, the complex simplicity of the art, though she was no genius like him.

_But can he solve this?_

"Lilly," he beckoned, tilting her chin up to face him. Concern filled his gaze and his lips pressed together as his hair fell into his face. His coarse thumb brushed over her cheeks and rested on her lower lip. "What happened? I could sense your fear."

Once again, she was thankful she had listened to him when Severus insisted they create a blood bond together. It was Dark Magic, but it would allow them to be vaguely aware of the other's feelings and position. The night they had performed the ritual in their little sanctuary, in the abandoned and transfigured classroom in the dungeons, they had done more than have sex. They had made love and done something that neither one of them could ever revoke.

"They kicked me out," she said between shaky breaths. Severus's eyebrows arched as he sucked in a tight breath. Danger filled his gaze then as he looked up and over her head, and he hissed.

"_Fuck_..."

She nodded and bit her lip, unsure then for the first time. "Sev..." She waited until he met her gaze, black to emerald green orbs and said, "I'm pregnant."

His pupils dilated and his lips parted. He was so still that for a moment she wondered if it had been too much, if she should have waited, or even gotten rid of it. But even the thought of destroying something _they _had made together, she couldn't breathe...

"Lily, I..." he trailed off, and frowned a moment as though looking for the right words.

She prepared herself, readied herself for the disappointment. They hadn't even graduated yet, though they already made plans to secretly marry as soon as possible. But they were of age, weren't they? It was the worst of times, she reminded herself. He was a _Death Eater_ and the Dark Lord wasn't exactly forgiving when his chosen ones knocked up _Mudbloods, _she thought bitterly.

"Severus," she began and gasped, because he wrapped his arms tightly around her, until her feet were dangling off the ground and his face was buried in her neck. She clung to him in slight fear and surprise when she felt him begin to shake and tremble. She realized he was crying. And then she felt him turn his face so his lips were closer to her ear and he whispered.

"Lils, I'm so..._so fucking _ happy, but I..._we _shouldn't be. What if _he _finds out? We hadn't planned for something like this and now I don't know how we'll...I don't know if I'll be..." he released a shuddered sigh.

Lily pushed back from him, and held his face in her hands. She smiled through the tears she didn't even realize she was still shedding when she saw the wonder and fear and joy combating behind those familiar onyx orbs. "Severus Snape, you listen to me. We will figure this out together and you will be a wonderful father. You already are," she said and pressed her forehead to his. He sighed against her, unable to look away from her eyes. "Now, I'm cold and wet and still pissed off. Take me home?"

He hesitated and then a slow, crooked, closed lip smile began in his face. Through methods she was unaware of, he Disapparated on the spot. They arrived at Spinner's End, the roughest part of town, behind the garage of his parents' dilapidated house. It had never been a home, Sev had once confessed to her. Even now, it held little but horrid memories.

She was momentarily surprised to find his father's car missing. "Where's Tobias?" she whispered.

He hung his head and shrugged. "I believe, my mother would say he finally drank himself into the place he truly belonged..."

Lily was surprised, but not wholly, nor did she know if she disapproved of his actions. But she was fairly certain that Severus and perhaps Eileen herself had had something to do with Tobias's disappearance today.

Instead of the standard Muggle trappings, Lily was also surprised to see a Wizard Wireless sitting in place of the old telly. The telly had been smashed in recently, it would seem, as a dustpan and broom magically swiped up the shattered bits. Eileen passed them by on her way to the kitchen, and Lily was struck by the changes. Her skin was still mottled where Tobias left the usual marks, but her eyes were not as dull and lifeless as usual. She looked almost triumphant as she made eye contact with Lily and her lips twitched up, almost in a smile.

Severus pulled her hand tightly along, until they were within the safety of his room. She stared at the posters she had given him, at the many Christmas gifts and Birthday presents she had bought and made him through the years, all carefully placed about the room. And what caught her eye most, were the sketches covering the walls in pastels and charcoal, of tumbling hair, the glint in an emerald eye, bright red waves and a clever smile. Lily had been given a few drawings from Severus in the past, but she hadn't been inside his room in three years. She let her eyes linger longest on the portrait over his desk, of them together at the top of their hill, underneath their tree, hands clasped tightly in union. It was the day he had told her he loved her, and she laughed at him, saying, _we're only children, Sev!_

She jumped when he came up to peel her slicker and jumper away, his fingers fumbling as he concentrated on the slight swell of her lower belly. He smiled and then lowered himself to the floor, on his knees and gently pressed his ear to her belly. His arms snaked up and drew her closer and Lily had never felt more loved.

* * *

Sirius panted for breath on the doorstep of No.12 Grimmauld Place. He had Apparated here almost immediately after his talk with Uncle Alphard, determined not to waste anymore time. Never mind the fact it was Christmas day, and the entire Black family was more than likely present. "Oi! Anyone inside this bloody hellhole?" He pounded on the door again with his fist and at last heard muttering and the creak of wood on hinges. He leaped back and waited, wondering which family member he would be forced to face first.

_Anyone but the Dragon, please Merlin..._

A very tall, regal older man stood before him, his dark navy robes swathed around him expertly, his nose straight and slightly hooked at its end, over a finely shaped mouth. The piercing gray eyes were something Sirius saw every day when he looked into his reflection in the mirror. Even the black hair, though combed expertly, was curled nearly as much as his own. Dread filled his being and he felt his upbringing returning full-fold when he straightened and inclined his head, hands clasped behind his back in a similar pose as the Wizard before him.

"Grandfather Arcturus..." he mumbled.

_Better than the Dragon, at least..._

"Grandson, you had better have a paramount reason for arriving here in such an unseemly manner..." Arcturus replied coolly.

Sirius dared to glance up at him, secretly hoping to find some gleam in his silver eyes, some indication of the man he remembered riding around on his shoulders as a small boy. This was the man who first put him on a broom at the age of one, the Wizard he had looked up to, almost as much as Uncle Alphard, until this _same _man disowned him, about the same time as his _other _grandfather, Pollux, disowned his uncle.

But Alphard declared to have not only redeemed himself with the family, thanks to his part in uniting Hermione Dumbledore with their ancient house. He fought the urge to curse and sneer and instead forced a slight smile into his mouth as he replied, "I need to speak with Regulus, Grandfather." He paused and waited for the head of the Black family to step aside and invite him in. The thought of returning to _this _house of all places made his skin crawl, but he had no other choice. Reggie was in too deep over his head, and even if James would never understand why he was doing this, Sirius had to change the plan and fast. Otherwise, none of them would ever see her again. She would be locked and thrown in with the key, inside _this damned house_, with no way out.

After a long pause, long enough to make him shift from foot to foot, Arcturus said, "So you simply decide to arrive here, the house of your fathers, on Christmas day? The family you have brought so much shame and harm to, you now wish to remind again that it is no longer whole?"

Sirius blanched, not expecting the sharp tones or the high rise of his grandfather's eyebrow. As a boy, Regulus had received the brunt of that eyebrow. Sirius had been spoiled by his grandfather, learning curses far sooner than his little brother. He had been the _future_ of the family, as Grandfather so often reminded him of growing up. Every year, the more time he spent with their extended family, the Potters, he more he felt sick at the thought. He had left No. 12 with his head high and a string of curses for the family he claimed to detest.

_So why do I feel like a fuckin' ponce now?_

But he remembered the look on Hermione's face then, and enforced the early training to make his face a mask rivaling his grandfather's. "I know I'm the last Wizard you wanted to see tonight, Grandfather, and I know I've disappointed you and our family. But Reggie is my brother." His brow lowered and his fists clenched behind his back.

_The sort that stabs you in the back as soon as they get the chance..._

"And even if you don't agree with the Potters in most things, they're part of our family too," he continued, unable to speak with a little passion. "I may have been a little, out of line," he gritted out, "last summer, but I've only ever had the family's best interests at heart. And whatever Reggie's done since then, he's still blood." What surprised him, then, was that he didn't have to fake the words, because it was true.

Arcturus blinked slowly and lips twitched faintly, fooling him into imagining an almost-smile, before thinning into a flat line. "Regulus is not in at this hour, and I do not feel your mother or your father will handle this..._situation_...with as much aplomb as you or I. I believe he said something about needing a _fag_ earlier," he finished with a sneer.

Sirius fought a grin. This was one Muggle habit his brother had picked up in the last year, he knew. Not that Sirius had anything against an occasional smoke himself. He had only smoked because it made his mother nutters, and before he left home, he had thrown his last pack in his brother's door and shouted, "_Keep these fuckin' things. You'll need 'em more than me, now, mate._"

Sirius nodded and inclined his head again. "I know where he is. Thanks, Grandfather." But before he could turn to leave, Arcturus interrupted suddenly, with surprising hesitation.

"Are you giving up so easily, then?"

Sirius whirred round and thought he caught a shadow of regret in the patriarch's face. He paused, considering his reply. "You never invited me in, remember?" He wanted to beat his head against the nearby bricks the instant he spoke the words. What was he thinking? He knew where the little wanker was, now. He must be going mad if he was even hinting that he wanted to actually go inside. In fact, he was relieved to the contrary, wasn't he?

And after all, Arcturus had said his parents wouldn't take the sight of him tonight, of all nights, very well. So it was his turn to arch his eyebrow and gape in shock when the elder Wizard took a decisive step back and motioned with his arm toward the entryway.

* * *

Regulus was surprised that goody goody, Lily Evans had resorted to consorting with Death Eaters.

_Safety in numbers, mate..._

He thought carefully through the plans they had made before leaving school grounds. On this day, Christmas day, he would use the port key Evans had made to meet them at the Prince home. Regulus sneered and flicked his fag away at the thought of old Tobias. It was about time Severus enacted a more permanent solution for the fucking menace. Regulus had often pondered over different scenarios none of which included such a gracious fate as his friend devised. Changing his memories so he believed himself homeless on the London streets was punishment enough, Severus claimed. He needed to be taught a lesson, and his batty mum could do with it whatever she liked. But he was done coming home to his mother's bruised and broken face.

Regulus hadn't expected to like Lily Evans, but once he saw the change in Snape, he changed his mind. Instead of acting like a lap dog for the Dark Lord, he was planning something far different. It wasn't as bad as whinging to Dumbledore, Regulus thought with a shudder, and it had been partly Evans' idea. Regulus couldn't agree more that it was half brilliant. And he was even willing to put aside his prejudice, if only to admire her for what she was, a very powerful, very scary Witch.

Eileen Prince Snape greeted him at the front door with a smile on her face. The nasty blue bruise on her cheek made the smile stretch higher on one side than the other, and her black eye kept the light from shining through those dark weary orbs. But she was obviously very pleased about something.

Regulus smirked and stepped his boots harder over the threshold. "Merry Christmas," he said and paused, wondering if it were even appropriate to call her a Snape, or whether she would hex his balls off if he didn't.

She seemed unperturbed as she replied in a raspy, deep tone, "And to you, Regulus. Always a pleasure to look into the eyes of a Black once more."

He grinned as she pointed toward Severus's room and then left for the kitchen. The house was already changing, he noted. Eileen was wasting no time in bringing back magic into what should have been a Pureblooded home. He wondered casually what his Uncle would make of this. Though he never said much of it, there had been one half drunken night, when Alphard Black claimed his old and only flame has been for a woman who chose a Muggle over him.

He pushed in the door after checking for wards. Finding none, he walked in and took in the couple huddled together on Severus's slightly sunken in bed. But he frowned as he noted the many bags strew across the room.

_So Evans finally did it_, he thought with vindication. He had always believed Muggles couldn't stomach having a magical child in their home. It was one part of his ingrained prejudice he was pleased to see the fruits of. It proved that not all Purebloods were cold-hearted bigots, though bastards he would claim.

"You're late," Severus drawled, almost lazily unless one were used to reading those faint inflections and the subtle wariness in his friend's gaze.

Regulus uncrossed his arms and slipped his hands in his pockets as he took a seat in the desk chair. "Sod off, mate. Might have found an excuse before this, if I didn't have the entire fuckin' Black family under my roof. And thanks to my _brother_, they expect the _heir _to be in attendance," he scoffed, thankful for the stolen moments. One more minute in his mad cousin Bella's presence and he was likely to stab her in the eye with his fork.

"So," Lily began, "did it, change things?" She was staring at the arm he was currently rubbing.

Regulus met her piercing emerald gaze and had to look away. Severus's knowing look was no better. He scowled and stared at the stained shag carpet. "Orion made me take it last night. Was going on and on about me taking my rightful place in the family or some other bullshit..." he shook and really, _really _needed a smoke right then.

Lily's sigh made him flinch and Severus was shocked. "That's completely mad. Usually it's done in front of the assembly..."

Regulus's brows drew closer together. "Yeah, yeah, I know, the big initiation you always talked about. Well, apparently the Dark Lord had something _special _in mind for me and used Orion to get his way. I'm not of age, yet, remember? Dark Lord said he's saving my initiation for later. And it wasn't just me joining ranks."

The others exchanged troubled and worried looks. Lily spoke first. "Who?"

"Wilkes was no surprise. He's been aching to lick the Dark Lord's crack for ages. MacBeth was there though. She can't take the mark, obviously, but she wanted to support her boyfriend, mental bint..."

"What are they going to do?" Lily asked in a small voice, with only a shadow of her usual wildcat spirit. He studied her briefly before answering, wondering why exactly she looked like hell and half her belongings were stuffed in Sev's room.

_None of your bloody business, Black,_ he told himself with an internal shrug. To Lily, he said, "He talked with them separately, but I'm betting on them finding some way to get the others inside the school. My special project is to find Slytherin's locket and bring the fucking thing to him."

"What for?" Severus intoned.

Regulus shivered, having already suspected. But he dared not bring it up now. He wouldn't even have a clue if he hadn't been reading something in the Black library a couple years before. He wished he'd never opened that damned book. He lowered his voice as he replied, "Something bad..."

Lily sighed again. "Perhaps Hermione can talk to Wilkes and MacBeth, don't you think? She is friends with them, isn't she?"

Regulus and Severus shared a slight grin over her naivety. He tried explaining it in simple, easy to understand Gryffindor terms. "Slytherin's don't have _friends_, Evans. We have associated, accomplices, lackeys even, and occasionally cohorts, but rarely ever _friends_."

She rolled her eyes and settled back against Severus's chest. "What would you call him, then?" she asked, thumbing back at her boyfriend.

"My friend." They laughed when Lily muttered in frustration.

Silence filled the space between them then, and Regulus knew he couldn't stay much longer before Grandfather or even worse, his father started looking for him. Kreacher, he could manage well enough.

"Don't you think it's time we told Hermione what's going on?" Lily finally said.

Regulus ached at the thought, to a degree he wasn't expecting. But he already knew the answer and didn't know how to tell them. He pulled up his sleeve and barred his arm to them grimly. "I don't know how well I'll be able to protect her, now."

Lily bit her lip and reached up to rest her hand against her boyfriend's chest. Severus put his hand over hers and for a moment, Regulus envied them with ferocious intensity. The moment passed when his friend said, "We've made headway in learning Occlumency. It's only a matter of time before he won't be able to reach any of us."

Regulus nodded and wished he could respond with the same determined assurance. But that was something Gryffindors possessed and he did not, light, hope. Hermione and the very thought of having her tied so closely to him had given him hope for the first time since his brother ran away from home. For once he didn't feel the suffocating pressure of trying to be the perfect son, or the perfect Dark Wizard. He could act his age with her, even, he might dare say.

And he was troubled by the owl he had received earlier that day from Alphard, telling him that she wouldn't be joining them at the Black Christmas dinner. He was partly relieved to delay introducing her to his darker cousins, and worried. That thought plagued his mind and gave him a reason to stand and bid his friend and associate farewell.

He smirked when he realized he could almost consider Lily Evans a friend, now.

* * *

Dark magic fell over his shoulders like a wet blanket, the instant Sirius crossed the threshold, testing and prodding at his defenses. It made him long to scratch an invisible itch, so he shoved his hands in his ripped-jeans pockets instead. Arcturus shut the door behind him before moving past to lead the way to the laughter and voices coming from the lit dining room. Sirius felt his stomach fill with heavy weights with every step and kept a pair of golden innocent eyes in his mind's eye, just to keep from turning and running back the other direction.

Before they left the shadows for the lamplight of the dining room, his grandfather paused and spoke low over him, "Say nothing of Regulus. Let me do the talking, and whatever you do say, make this only about reconciliation, grandson."

_Reconciliation? Oh, fuck me sideways..._

He felt queasy but nodded in agreement, remembering Uncle Alphard's words in the Potter study. How far was he willing to go? He knew he was about to find out.

The dining room had been magically expanded to seat several more tables, where various branches of the Black family exchanged old stories and talked about how best to control the Muggle problem. Okay, he conceded, maybe they weren't quite as anti-muggle as he remembered them being, at least among family. That was coupled with politics, a topic the men discussed in the library, not in front of the women and children. He glanced back and heard youthful laughter from the kitchen, and smirked faintly, remembering all the antics he and James had got up to as lads. They often headed up the pranks, even then.

"Father?!" Orion Black exclaimed once they had stood long enough before the suddenly quiet assembly. Sirius rounded to face the two dozen, familiar faces and forced a pleasant smile on his face. His father stood nearest to them, son of the great Arcturus Black, Order of Merlin recipient and Pureblooded bigot, as pompous as they came. But his father had always been more severe. His curled hair was tied back tightly behind his head, only enhancing his sharp features and hawkish nose. His dark eyes appraised them both with a tumbling riot of emotions.

"Sirius!" his mother screeched then, though he avoided looking at her face.

"Filthy blood traitor!" he recognized his cousin's screech, "How dare you show your face!"

"Calm down, Bella," a grating, harsh male voice interrupted her outburst.

Arcturus spoke over the sudden din of similar outrage, "Enough! Children, cousins and siblings, Sirius has come to visit me this evening on an important family matter. I believe he has something important he would like to say to you all."

Sirius glanced up quickly in disbelief, but closed his mouth when he saw the ghost of a smirk on his grandfather's face.

_He's enjoying this. The old tosser's actually enjoying this!_

It made him return the grin. He rocked back on his heels and faced the others, sweeping his eyes over the room briefly. There was his mum's father, Grandfather Pollux Black, who was making no effort to hide his amusement. He had always been the opposite from Arcturus, though they were cousins and rumored to be thick as thieves, as much as he and Prongs were now, once upon a bloody time. It was hard to tell where his loyalties lay, though Sirius liked to imagine he shared the same sentiments as his son, and Sirius's Uncle Alphard. The regal, straight backed and white haired witch beside him made him cringe. His Grandmother Irma, nee Crabbe, was just as scary as she had been when he was a boy. Age hadn't been half as kind to her as it had been to Grandfather Pollux.

_Thank Merlin they spend most of their time at the villa in Italy..._

Next to his mother's parent's was his Great-Aunt, Cassiopeia. It was rumored she was barmy from some potions experiment gone wrong. Often her stories carried her in different directions, and let her talk about things the family would rather keep quiet about. She was black haired, still and her features were very similar to her sister, Mummy P, he thought briefly.

Beside her sat his other Great-Aunt Callidora Longbottom and her husband, Harfang. He glanced around and spotted their daughter, Augusta and their grandson Frank sitting with Alice Greengrass at the younger table and couldn't help return their grins. Frank was often being bullied by his bear of a mum, which was why Alice was so good for him. No doubt she was a smash hit among the old biddies, he thought with viscous glee. Alice could rip into the best of them and detested Voldemort with a passion.

He saw his Aunt Lucretia Prewett and her children seated at another table. The red hair was unmistakeable, but he was surprised they had been invited to this gathering. Aunt Lucretia had been his father's older sister and his only supporter at the bigger gatherings, keeping him from a few choice curses at his mum's wand. Her gaze was surprisingly harsh now.

He avoided his Uncle Cygnus' side of the family altogether. He knew he'd have to not only face Cissy and that wanker Malfoy if he did, but the awkward Lestrange brother and Bitchy Bella. Several other, more distant relations had joined for Christmas supper, it would seem, which explained the children. The purest branches had a hard go at repopulating the earth with more mini-Death Eaters, he thought with a twitch of his wand hand.

It took him all of fifteen seconds to meet the eyes of most of his family, and ignore the whispers over his blatantly offensive Muggle clothing. He let them stew long enough before he finally began, "Father, Mother, I won't stay long, but it being Christmas and all, I've been thinking a lot of coming here to see you all. Not like I missed you or anything," he added and heard Alice cough quickly and lightly at his comment to suppress her laugh, "But this time of year is about family, and it's like Grandfather said, I'm here on business. Thought maybe it was time I fessed up and admitted I've been a selfish wanker to the lot of you."

The last, he knew they hadn't been expecting. Just as the Dragon's face purpled so much he thought she'd burst, her thick eyebrows eased and she began to blink rapidly. She was the first to speak, "Ladies, I believe it is time you joined me in the parlor for sherry." The others followed her lead, like a string of trained puppets, in Sirius's opinion. Bellatrix offered him a particular nasty glare, obviously sharing her opinion of him. Sirius rolled his eyes and smiled adoringly back, until she looked away and hissed something nasty to Cissy. Alice winked at him on her way out but his mother didn't look his way twice. He was relieved.

His father gave similar instructions, to join him in the library for cigars, but he stayed behind as the others went ahead. It was disconcerting, having the old man look at him long and cooly, almost as much as Granfather Arcturus. At last, Orion Black turned to his father and said, "I cannot question your judgement, father, but to disrupt the family in such a manner! What were you thinking?"

Arcturus narrowed his eyes at his son, and Sirius was almost pleased to hear his reply. "What you should have done long ago, Orion. I believe we've indulged Sirius's rebellion long enough. You may be unaware, but besides Regulus, Sirius is the only other direct heir of my grandfather and I have always thought him capable of taking on my duties. You, however, pushed him too far with your agenda. This family has survived so long because we remained fixed on the line between light and dark. It is _you _and your cousin who are adamant to damn the next generation. You see what it has already done to Regulus."

"Regulus is my heir!" his father grunted, though he looked more chastised than Sirius could remember seeing him before.

Arcturus hissed, "_No_, my foolish son. He was never _my _heir." To Sirius he turned and appraised him. "My word is final in this family, as you well know. I said many things that I have since regretted to your eldest son. But my intention remains. Sirius, if you are as determined to reconcile to the family as you claimed in your letter..."

_What the..._

"then you must be willing to adhere to my rule. Is this understood?"

Sirius clasped his hands behind his back and bowed his head low, "Yes, Grandfather."

_And that is how they make slaves of princes, _he thought grimly.

"Father, you can't be..."

"What's going on?" A low, slightly raspy and familiar voice interrupted.

Sirius looked up from the corner of his eye, knowing he could do no further until Grandfather dismissed him or acknowledged him at least.

_Fucking traditions..._

Regulus looked worse for wear, his hair falling from its ponytail and into his face. He reeked of cigarette smoke and might even be skinnier than he remembered. Sirius still hated the fact he was taller than all of them, even Grandfather, it would seem, though that didn't keep their patriarch from intimidating them all just as thoroughly.

Orion spoke first, "Regulus, you were gone longer than expected..." There was something under his words that Sirius didn't like, that made Regulus shudder imperceptibly.

Grandfather interrupted, with a barking ferocity that sounded eerily like his own hot temper. Somehow it was more frightening coming from someone who usually kept it locked under such tight control. "I warned you about such talk, under my roof! Regulus, Sirius would have a word with you. I must speak with my _son_." Before he turned to go, he looked briefly back to meet his eyes and clasp his hand on his shoulder. "We will discuss the new arrangements further, very soon, Grandson."

Sirius smirked and lifted his head, waiting until the older men left the room before turning to face his little brother. Regulus looked anything but pleased to see him, in fact, he was still watching their Grandfather and Father's retreat with an odd mixture of dread and relief.

"What are you doing here, Sirius?" Regulus rasped.

Sirius barked a laugh, his repentant Pureblood act falling away, revealing his anger. "Outside," he grit out.

They made it down the front steps and before the gate, before he cast a silencing charm Moony had taught come up with over them and rounded on his brother. His fist made contact with his jaw faster than Regulus could duck to avoid. "You sneaky blighter! Where the hell do you come off, trying to steal Hermione from James, trying to drag her into your fucking shit!"

Regulus pressed the back of his hand to his bruised jaw and winced when he tried to grin. It was the same look he adopted that Sirius had always hated, that secretive Slytherin face, as if he were constantly planning shit.

"Did you talk to Hermione about this?"

Sirius opened his mouth to reply and his face darkened with deeper anger, with the hatred he hated feeling toward someone he had tried so hard to protect, once. "Shut the fuck up! Don't bring her into this. I _know _you have something over her, something big, or she'd never agree to this."

Regulus sighed and pulled a fag from his pocket. He lit it with a brief flick of his wand and lifted it to his lips. It made Sirius almost regret quitting. "My simple-minded Gryffindor brother, you never did understand how delicate these games of war can be..."

"I know exactly how this plays!" Sirius interrupted, stepping back into his brother's space. "You offer Hermione protection from the other snakes, but she doesn't know how deep in it you are, I'm betting, does she?" When Reggie pressed his lips together angrily and smoked deeply, Sirius knew he already had him. "You think you're smart as Salazar, don't you? Planning shit you don't understand. You talk about me being thick, but you're the one who isn't thinking from every angle."

Regulus lifted his head, thick eyebrows raised in an expression that looked just like Walburga the Dragon. "You think I haven't thought through every variable? You forget I am the one in Slytherin. I am the one that you dumped the family duty on when you ran away to the Potters. _I _am the one who..."

"Salazar's prick! All you snakes are just alike!" Sirius groaned, annoyed and a little ashamed at his brother's speech. He was well aware of what he left his brother to carry on, what their father wanted, and what he couldn't handle. But from the way Arcturus had spoken to Orion, he wondered if this had changed.

Regulus rolled his eyes and took another drag. "You're so predictable, Sirius. Let me guess, you're here to demand you take my place?"

Sirius masked his surprise and pressed forward with the words he'd already prepared on his way over. "You really think that Voldemort is gonna ignore Hermione, just because she's your Witch? You need someone who can be neutral, Reg," he added, using his old nickname for him. It was enough to make his brother meet his eye and for a faint moment, actually seem to listen to what he said. Sirius clasped a hand on his shoulder, much like Arcturus had Orion before. "I've spoken to Uncle Alphard. I know that you care about Hermione. Merlin knows why she agreed to this, but I have to trust that you want her best interests. And I'm telling you now, keeping her in a dementor pit isn't going to help her."

"What are you suggesting, brother? You dress like a fucking Mudblood. You make a point to prank and fight with any Slytherin that crosses you, and you're an absolute berk to anyone you suspect of being a Dark Wizard. So unless you're willing to beg for forgiveness in front of the entire family, start dressing like a damned Wizard instead of a Muggle rock star and move back home, you're going to have a hard time convincing any decent Slytherin." He took another drag and blew out the smoke in Sirius's face.

He soaked the scent in, reminding him of seedy underground Muggle clubs he'd dragged James to last summer. It was odd that his prick of a brother would make him think of such things. But he waited until Regulus's confidence wavered, replaced by confusion and then that odd expression of fear and relief he'd caught a glimpse of earlier. He waited for Reggie to say it first.

"You're serious, aren't you? That's why Grandfather was so angry with Father, why he actually _touched _you like you were still his fucking favorite..." Regulus's eyebrows rose and his blue eyes flashed with something akin to mirth. It had been a long time since they had shared any looks besides contempt. "You are serious..."

Sirius grinned, "Now you're catching on, Reg."

Regulus contemplated and smoked for several more minutes and Sirius was all too happy to let him stew it over. He already knew he was right, or he wouldn't have bothered coming in the first place. He certainly hadn't expected Arcturus, of all people to be the first to initiate his return to the family's evil clutches, and he wasn't pleased by it by any means. But his argument was the only thing that made sense.

"And you've already spoken with Uncle Alphard," Regulus said, more to himself, then.

Sirius nodded. "Yeah..." He eyed his brother's fag and his fingers twitched. "Oi, mind if I have some?" Without commenting, Regulus passed the smoke to his hand. As he did so, his sleeve tugged up along his wrist, revealing a very fresh, very real dark mark.

_Fuck_.

Sirius kept his face clear of any emotion and somehow managed to take the cigarrette without trembling. He pulled long and hard on the Muggle poison and let it fill his lungs, muddle with his head.

"I thought I could save her myself, but Father has been too damned persistent," he mumbled, reaching down to rub the tattooed arm.

Sirius glanced down quickly at it before flicking the ashes from his smoke. They both turned to face the house that had entrapped them in one way or the other. "When?" he asked, daringly.

Regulus glanced at him subtly and shoved his hands in the pockets of his robes. "Last night. Couldn't get away from it, Siri... Not even she could save me from it. And I-I can't be the reason _he_ gets to her..."

Sirius felt the urge to put his arm around his little brother and squeeze as he used to when the were kids. Maybe it was because Reg had used the old nickname too, the ones they had only ever used for each other, when the fights between their parents had been loud enough to shake the house, before Grandmother had died and Arcturus moved back into their home. It had been so long since he felt he had a brother besides Prongs, Moony and Wormtail. And much as he loved his new family, he really did understand Regulus.

Because he had come so close to being forced into the same position. Orion had always been a staunch supporter of _You-Know-Fucking-Who, _ever since he went to Hogwarts with the bastard. They both always knew what waited for them when they came of age. The fact his baby brother took the mark a year early was alarming to Sirius. It meant that Voldemort was recruiting younger, preparing for something big. And he knew, by Reggie's admission, that the plan to protect Dumbledore's mysterious heir needed to change if they had any hope.

Maybe it was because they both inherently felt, that she was the only Witch or Wizard powerful enough to give the Light a fighting chance, besides the Headmaster himself.

He had to be the one, or Hermione was good as Voldemort's. Regulus still didn't know how she really came to them, he could never know. As long as he was part of the inner circle, like Sirius secretly suspected, then his mind wasn't safe enough to know the truth. For the first time in his life, Sirius Orion Black was thinking like a fully-fledged Slytherin. It was all because of Hermione. He knew how much she meant to James, and he was willing to do whatever it took to keep her in his best mate's life. It wasn't ideal, but he was willing to do anything, even if it ruined his relationship with James.

Wasn't that what Dumbledore was always preaching to them? To make the right choice, for the greater good? Sirius didn't consider himself a true Gryffindor, really, not like James. A part of his soul would always be too dark, too much like a Slytherin. This might be his chance, to do something for someone other than himself for a change, to do the honorable thing.

Reggie sighed at last and said, "You need to go home, Sirius. Let me deal with Mother tonight. I'll speak to Grandfather as well. And in the morning, you need to meet me at our old spot, yeah? There's a lot more to all of this than you realize, that you're going to need to know."

* * *

Hermione watched James in his sleep, long after their lovemaking had simmered down to light caresses and finally his arms wrapped around her and his head nestled between her breasts. She savored the weight and feel of him, because she knew this was likely the last time she could know him this way again. She blinked back tears and focused again on silencing the bond between them, long enough to slip from under the covers.

James shifted in his sleep, his messy black hair falling forward over his eyebrows before springing back straight up over his forehead. She cracked a smile and felt the first tears fall then, covered her lips to reign in the sob waiting behind them. She turned quickly from the sight of him stretched out over and under the tangled bedsheets, with reflections of the skies and stars dancing against the walls and ceiling of his bedroom.

No one had disturbed them since he had dragged her here hours before. One of the house elves left a tray at the door, knocked and then left. They devoured the Christmas supper and then devoured each other again a third time afterward. As she cast a quick cleansing charm over her body, wandlessly and wordlessly, she donned one of James's heavy robes and tugged on her ruined stockings. She tried to put on what remained of her green Christmas clothes, and was forced to transfigure some of her clothes into something relatively decent and not ripped. She felt her hair, frizzed from its formerly perfect coifs and flying wild as she moved about the room. She cast a quick warming charm over the room as she glanced back at her boyfriend, her love, and shut the door behind her.

For a long turbulent moment, she leaned against the door and shut her eyes, visions of the past hours flashing through her mind. She was grateful they remembered the contraceptive charms because she was certain she would be pregnant after all _that_. James had never cherished or poured out his passion over her like that, not with such possession and desperation. Eventually he had relaxed enough to love her gently and powerfully, the same way he'd taken her that first night they finally gave into one another. She knew she had never loved anyone this way, and doubted it possible she would ever again.

She wondered where the boys, Alphard Black and her Uncle had gone off to. As she crept down the silent stairs, she thought she could hear Remus and Peter speaking in hushed tones from the music room. On the first floor, she saw the Christmas tree and evidence of unwrapped gifts. But the joy seemed to have been sucked from the manor. The lightness she had felt this morning, that determination to give them a happy Christmas before she had to break James's heart, it was all gone.

Now she was back where she started, feeling like an imposter in a house that still insisted on sheltering her, in the care of people she didn't deserve. For the first time, she considered looking past the veil that guarded her other life and her memories. But even thinking of it, reminded her of several sets of red hair and the feel of a sweater against her cheek, of a dark kitchen table and the handsome, haunted face of an older yet oddly familiar gray eyed man.

She shivered and wrapped the robe more closely around her shoulders. She found the inner parlor, where the smaller Christmas tree had been set up near the roaring fireplace and smiled to see pieces of paper the house elves had missed. She wondered if Remus had enjoyed his brand new Wizarding chess set, or Peter his set of ink pens. He was always breaking them during their little tutoring sessions, and she knew he couldn't afford his own. She might have also sneaked the cube she found in Remus's things, that he had taken from Pete earlier that year, into the package as well.

She gave Charlus a miniature pensieve, not knowing if he already had one or not, but knew they were quite popular with elder Wizards. And for Dorea, she had bought her a portrait commission to have whoever she desired painted into immortality. Ironic that it was far more likely her mentor would commission herself to be painted, now...

Hermione rubbed her eyes furiously and paused before the hearth. She sniffed and then jumped with a squeal when she felt something heavy drape across her shoulders. She lifted her hands, feeling the energy lacing up her fingertips and the magic charging, ready to burst form her. But her vision cleared as her tears spilled, revealing Sirius.

He was still wearing the same ripped jeans and Muggle Tee she had seen him in earlier, but his eyes were weary now instead of infuriated. He looked tousled by wind, as though he'd been out in his bike again, but worse for wear this time. At first she cringed, ready for the verbal lashing sure to come. Unlike her boyfriend sleeping upstairs, Sirius already knew what she had planned, what she agreed to. It might save their lives, but she knew too well the potential this had to destroy them in other ways.

He pressed his leather jacket more firmly over her shoulders and shoved his hands into his pockets with a frown. "You looked cold," he said. Odd, when could have cast a charm, she fleetingly thought. But she savored the extra warmth his jacket gave her. Maybe he knew a thing or two, after all. This was better than a warming charm.

"Sirius?" she asked, concerned. "What is it? Did you just get in?"

He shrugged and frowned at the fire, unable to look at her. "Yeah. Ran into Moony and Pete before they went up to bed. Uncle Alphard and Dumbledore are spending the night in the other spare rooms and Charlus is seeing to Mummy P..." his voice wavered.

Hermione gasped and pressed a hand to his bare forearm. "You didn't know?" He jerked his chin up and his haunted gray eyes flashed as they linked with her gaze. She fought the urge to cower and stared back. "Sirius, I am so sorry..." she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears.

He grimaced and surprised her when he turned to grasp her by the arms, through the bunched fabric of his jacket. "No one thought to _fucking _tell me she's _dying_! Anyone could have sent me an owl or...or _something_, damn it!"

She looked around, fearful he was going to wake the rest of the house and she stepped into him, pressed her hands to his chest to calm him down. "Shh! I know, Padfoot, I know..."

He choked on a sob and shook his head furiously, squeezing his eyes shut in concentration as he hung his head. She caught a breath when he pressed his forehead to hers slowly and slowly his ragged breath eased to match her own.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "It's not your fault, not anyone's fault. But I should have _been _here with all of you. I guess it goes to show you can't fix everything," he finished, bitterly.

"Sirius," she said softly, wondering then where he had been all day.

He looked at her and something about it, or perhaps it was how closely they were standing, so soon after she had poured out her love for his best friend, made her try to pull away. He held on, his eyes pleading with her and she forced herself to relax, even as his magic washed over her briefly like a wet blanket, dark and thick, and surprisingly strong. She had just never been this close to him to notice. And she had not been close enough to many Wizards dark enough to carry auras like his.

_Like mine..._she reminded herself.

"Sorry love, I just hate being the last one to know about something like this. How," he frowned and swallowed before continuing, "How is Prongs taking it?"

She sighed and pulled her head back. Worry lines captured his face when she pulled away, along with a flash of something akin to guilt, so she took his hand in hers and made him sit beside her on the nearby sofa. "Not well." She frowned and looked at their joined hands. James was tanned but still paler than her olive tone. But Sirius was naturally darker, his hands rough from more than broom rides. He smelled like metal and faintly of grease and yet fresh grass and like spring, she faintly thought.

"And, how is he taking the rest of it?" he added darkly.

Hermione lifted her hand and gaped at him, her eyes widening at his dark look.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Mione," he continued grimly. "But I think I've got you figured out, crazy bint that you are." They were most definitely not speaking of Dorea's illness then. "I know you're trying to protect James. I want you to know that whatever comes after this, I plan on protecting the both of you."

Hermione frowned, and she saw a wild look in his eye, something that was vaguely and disturbingly familiar. Then she thought of the words she had overheard earlier, as he argued with his uncle, the fact he had been gone all day... "Sirius, what did you do?"

She looked down at their joined hands and that was when she finally saw it. The ring on his hand, the ring she used to see on Regulus's hand in Potions every day. "Shit," she cursed, under her breath. "Sirius, you hate your family," she said, at a loss.

He laughed then, with more mirth than should be genuinely possible in that moment. His eyes gleamed as he told her, "Oh, I suppose I do. But there is a fine line between hate and love, yeah?" His gray eyes turned stormy and he sucked in a sharp breath when her hand tightened around his. "You might hate me later, love, but I promised you two I was going to get to the bottom of things, didn't I? It's like I told Reggie earlier, I'd do whatever it takes."

She bit her lip, understanding washing over her. The family crest on his finger, the mixture of longing and self-hatred in his eyes. She knew he loved James like a brother and would do anything for him. But did she dare hope he had done the impossible, found a way to keep them all together, after all? A way to keep her from lingering too closely to the dark. Would James understand? Could she dare be selfish enough to hope she wasn't going to lose them all, at least?

Hermione sighed with something she suspected was very much like relief and leaned her head against Sirius's shoulder. It would have to be enough.

* * *

**Review: **_Wow what a ride! Lol, this chapter helped me map out several key changes in the upcoming parts of this story. If you have any suggestions, now is the time to ask! I'll try and incorporate as much of your thoughts and opinions into future chapters and leave it up to you to scavenge them out ;)_


	34. INTERLUDE: P5

_**A/N: **This post is dedicated to BlueFrost, who waited forever, Kawaiishiella for keeping me in canon check, and to all the lovely fans who have kept up with this story, and new guests I've enjoyed hearing their sharing of Hermione's journey. Of course, a shout out to Snape'sMistress and DriAlmighty, for unending, unwavering support!_

* * *

**INTERLUDE: Winter Hol's**

**PART 5**

**Chapter 34**

**Fallout**

* * *

Voices shouted from the landing below. He pressed his ear to the crack and listened. His amber eyes widened when he realized who was shouting. His supernatural senses allowed him to hear much further than he wanted, and at the moment, he wanted to curse his furry little problem.

"What's going on, Mooney?" Pete asked with his usual nervous energy.

Remus Lupin huffed and then checked his annoyance when he realized how much Mooney yearned to growl and tear his friend limb from limb just then. The wolf was always just barely under the surface of his conscience. It was just a matter of controlling his anger. What they didn't know was that he was almost always angry and it was almost always there, just brewing underneath the surface.

"Oi! Mate, what d'ya see?" Pete pestered again, tugging on his sleeve.

Remus backed from the open door crack and shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from backhanding Pete. "Nothing," he grunted and sat on the familiar piano bench. His fingers itched to smash the keys instead of playing them. He felt so much of the undercurrent tension that had been stewing in Potter Manor for two days, now. It was enough to make him wish he'd stayed at home with Mum and Dad, even if his Dad could make things awkward as hell sometimes.

Peter pursed his lips together and his scraggly blonde hair fell over his eyes as he sat on the floor in front of Remus. He sighed slowly and heavily, and hesitantly pulled out the cube Hermione had reclaimed and gifted him for Christmas. "I just wish someone would tell us what's going on, yeah?" Pete mumbled under his breath.

Remus could only nod and grimace as he pulled his hands from his pockets and let them rest on the piano keys without making a sound.

Their Witch could never guess how much her boys truly cared for her. For Pete, she was like his guardian angel, protecting him when the others teased too much, perhaps. She was also his teacher and the one who gave him the confidence with Witches he needed to finally ask McKinnon out.

For Padfoot...Remus frowned as he thought of his slightly deranged and infuriating best mate. Sirius was a difficult one to peg in the best of times. But lately, Remus had caught the subtle looks and touches and even the unique scent his old friend gave and carried, all because of _her_. This was dangerous ground for Remus, when all he wanted was to protect Hermione. She was part of his pack, and James was their Alpha in many ways. And because Hermione was James's whole world now, Mooney was increasingly agitated by the mutt's actions. Sirius might be able to hide his true feelings from James and most everyone including himself.

Mooney had been in mourning for Lady Potter. Mummy P had smelled like death for some time now, and Remus wasn't surprised by her announcement. But he was surprised by how much it affected him. Christmas had been shite, in spite of their best attempts. But with Hermione comforting James and Charlus caring for Dorea, and Sirius going barmy, they'd had to make their own fun. They opened presents and joked with Dumbledore before he gave his usual mysterious excuse before leaving.

New Years was fast approaching, and Remus had busied himself by checking through their supplies, hoping they'd have enough after this to follow through with James's original grand plan.

As if he had read his mind, Peter piped up, a hopeful look in his slightly watery eyes. "Oi! You think we might sneak into the kitchen for some bickies?"

Remus chortled, unable to help his amusement. There were times when he really almost hated Peter. But their friend never failed to entertain. "Sure, Wormy, why not? Not as though they're going to be finishing up anytime soon. Back entrance?"

Pete scrambled to his feet and tucked what he'd started calling "Mione's Present" back in his coat pocket. "Grand entrance! I'm knackered waiting on _them_. 'Sides, I wanna see if her present works like it's supposed to.

Remus huffed a tempered laugh as he followed his shorter friend out the door. "You realize that damned thing is just a cheap parlor trick?"

Peter glanced back over his hunched shoulder with a scowl. "Shove off, Mooney. You're just jealous cause Mione gave me something useful."

Remus shook his jitters out and flexed his fingers before rubbing his chin and loping to catch up with Pete's scramble. "Least if it doesn't work, you can just shrink by unnoticed."

"'Member what happened last time I tried that? Padfoot had me between his teeth in five seconds, swear on Godric's hairy balls!"

Remus laughed, slightly louder this time, but still below human hearing. He'd missed those days, the simple fun they used to revel in. Before Hermione appeared broken and bloody and woke them all up to reality. It was a shatty, dirty world waiting out there. Remus had always known this deep down, thanks to his bloody cycle, as Prongs liked to tease him about. But being in Hogsmeade and hearing the rumors of James and Hermione's actions, seeing the Death Eaters in the streets, it had shaken him to the core.

He'd always wanted to be a professor, a teacher of some sort, perhaps in Defense. Hogwarts had been his refuge after all. It was only natural his inner wolf would crave to maintain its territory. But now he wondered if he'd have any other choice but to be an Auror. He wouldn't mind it, even though it used to be Prongs and Pads' dream. Truly, nothing gave him more hope than the knowledge that no matter what happened, they would stand together, united as they always had been.

Hermione's voice came to him then, "James, please listen!"

James roared, with such vehemence that Remus had never heard before, "Don't you _fucking _touch me, Hermione!"

Sirius interrupted, "Prongsie, just listen, yeah? It's not what you think!"

"Oh it damn well _is _exactly what I think! What I always knew would happen! Fuckin' wanker! You just couldn't let me get the girl for once, could you!"

"Prongs!"

"James!"

_**SMACK**_

Remus groaned and grabbed Pete before he could take the detour. Instead he dragged him down the main landing and prepared for yet another problem he would have to mend. But he couldn't shake the subtle fear crawling up his belly and into his throat, cackling and reminding him that not everything was fixable.

* * *

James woke up earlier that day to find his mum sitting on the edge of his bed, and Hermione nowhere in sight. He rubbed his eyes to clear his vision and fight the urge to reach instinctively for the ghost of her memory, just on the fringe of his mind. She had tasted exquisite. She had been everything he had ever wanted or would want. She had promised him that she was his now and forever. He needed that last night, when the world came crashing down to shit.

He couldn't wait to see her all day, had practically driven the other lads bonkers with his plans. He had an elaborate proposal worked out and had no intention of enduring the agony of the previous semester. He was determined that even though they were young, and it scared him shitless not even seven months ago, the idea of being tied to one Witch forever, he _needed _Hermione. He was done with pretending their lives weren't already starting. Sure, there was the uncertainty of her shaded past that he didn't like to think about. In his mind she was Uncle Albus's niece, and that was an end to it. Whoever she was in the past, she was already Mrs. Potter in his mind.

The thought made him smile as he took his spectacles from his mum and watched the lenses bring her lovely face into clarity. He regretted it almost instantly. Without her glamours, she looked as sick as she proposed to be. It wasn't a fucking nightmare. It was real.

"Good morning, my sweet Jamie," Dorea softly intoned and reached out to cup his stubbly cheek with her soft hand. He blinked hard to fight back the tears as he wondered how many more times would he feel that hand on his cheek.

"Mummy," he said softly. He didn't care much that he was totally starkers under his bed sheets. He sat up and dragged her into his arms. He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed her scent in, that cloves and honey scent that had always been _her_ as far as he could remember.

"Jamie," Dorea began as she pushed back and took his hand in both of hers. She smiled a moment and a hint of her former loveliness peeked through her pale pallor. "I wanted to apologize for yesterday. It wasn't the Christmas I had hoped for you. From what Charlus tells me, the boys spent dinner with Albus and the House Elves. And Sirius was missing most of the night. Apparently he followed Alphard on his departure from the manor..." She frowned, thoughtfully, before lifting her sparkling sapphire eyes to him. "Have you seen Hermione this morning, love?"

James gripped his sheets a little tighter with his free hand, suddenly very conscious that he and his girlfriend had had wild passionate sex in this same bad the night before. His tanned cheeks colored pink and he looked down to hide his discomfort. "Ehm, no, not since...well, y'know she kind of looked after me after dad put you to bed, and..."

"Jamie," Dorea interrupted with a laugh and fingers to his lips. Her eyes were shining, but there was sadness in her too. "I do not require all the details of your love life."

He groaned and palmed his face with his hand. "Mother!"

She laughed and squeezed his hand. "If you think this would upset me, you'd be mistaken. I knew she was the one for you, darling, from the moment you carried her in through our doors. At first I was frightened, I confess..."

This drew James out of hiding from behind his fingers. He arched a black brow and smirked, "Really? Dorea the Dangerous, frightened of a little Witch?"

Dorea pinched him in the side and narrowed her eyes at him. Her smirk matched his, however as she replied and he rubbed the mark she supposedly left. "You cheeky little blighter! I said no such thing! I simply meant that I," she dragged in a breath and her eyes widened. Her chest constricted and her mouth formed a slight oh.

James leaned forward and supported her. "Mum? Mum, what is it? Do you need to lie down again?"

Dorea sucked in a deep breath and choked, then coughed until James swore she would break. "I'm fine, love," she rasped. But he heard the tears she wouldn't show him. And he did his best to hide his fear as he cradled her face in his hands and forced her to look at him.

"I think we should get some breakfast and let dad look after you, okay? But ehm...think I should put on some clothes on, yeah?"

Dorea pushed away with a slightly trembling hand and smiled beautifully. "I quite agree, darling. Now, I am off to find your father. No doubt he's up to some mischief. Claimed he was going to _cook _us breakfast this morning, but we all know how well that's bound to turn out."

James grinned winningly as she retreated and waited until the moment her back was turned and the door clicked shut before he buried his face in his hands and heaved silent sobs.

* * *

He made it downstairs a short while after, determined to make the best of things. He ached for Hermione, and was hoping he might catch her before they walked into the kitchens and he was forced to put on the mask again. He glanced guiltily at the guest wing and wondered how the lads were holding up. They had made such grand plans on the train ride back from Hogwarts. Now the likelihood of any festivities were abandoned in his mind. He simply didn't have the heart for it. And James Potter had always been known for wearing his heart on his sleeve.

He had almost made it to the bottom of the stair, when he caught hold of a sight that not only made him sick, but violent enough that he longed to bash his fists against the floor. As it was he stood, immobile and scarcely believing, his eyes wide and his vision glazed as he felt his legs turn into stone.

Hermione was wrapped up in James's robe, remnants of the dress he had practically ripped from her luscious body the night before, hanging in tatters underneath. She had fallen asleep before the still glowing fireplace before the couch and hearth set behind the Christmas tree on the landing. It was a special place that his mum had always magically added every year, where they could open gifts and sing carols.

He would have savored in the welcome sight, with hopes of many Christmases to come. But in his fantasies, it was always _him _and Hermione curled up on the couch before the Yuletide hearth, _not _his best mate.

Sirius had trapped Hermione in his leather jacket, a sight James had never seen before. Pads was very protective of not only his bike but the jacket he had bought in a Muggle consignment shop. And now he had not only his jacket wrapped around James's Witch, but his arms as well.

James felt the stirrings of a dormant emotion, one he had felt before more than once as they grew up together. Sirius had always been a flirt, even with bints James had wanted. He knew in the back of his mind that Hermione was Sirius's friend as well, but he had been helpless to his jealousy. Because in spite of the show he put on front of everyone else, James had always considered Sirius the more appealing between the two of them.

_Breathe, mate, just breathe..._James's inner conscience demanded while he continued to clench and unclench his fists. But he was shouting and crossing the room the very next second, as though he didn't have any control over the matter. Maybe it was because of the..._contentment_...he felt from her through their bond. No matter, he felt vaguely satisfied when they jerked up and away from each other startled. But it was Sirius's protective hands on her shoulders that really set him off.

"What the bloody hell is going on!"_  
_

"James!" Hermione gasped and broke from Sirius's grip to plant her hands on James's chest. "It's not what it looks like! Please let me explain!"

James kept his hard gaze trained on Sirius and could feel the crackle of his magic and the ancient magic in his veins yearning to break free. Hermione gasped again when she touched him, no doubt because she could feel it too.

Sirius forced a lazy grin. "Oi! Prongsie, she just came down here for a kip and found me brooding. It was cold, we talked and we fell asleep, yeah? No harm done, see?" He held open his hands and James wanted to believe him and wanted to burn the tears forming in his eyes. Because he noticed the flicker of guilt in Hermione's golden gaze and the doubt in his best mate's.

"Why don't I believe you, Padfoot?" James asked, his voice shaking. He was afraid of what he was about to do, what he wanted to do in that moment. It was everything he could do to keep those desires under control.

Sirius shrugged, pushing forward with his act of blase innocence. "These things happen, mate. No need to get your knickers in a twist!"

Hermione added, "James, I was going to come back upstairs, I promise." She forced her hands on his face but he refused to look her in the eye. He couldn't, damn it! It hurt to feel her and crave her and want her, when he also felt the confusion inside of her hidden emotions.

"How long has this been going on? How long have you been in love with her?" James ground out to Sirius.

Sirius blanched, his mouth opening and closing several times before he shook his head and ran a hand through his shaggy hair. That was when James saw it, the ring, the _fucking_ Black family ring on his blood brother's hand.

Hermione pleaded, "James, this is ridiculous! Sirius is _not _in love with me! I love you, remember? Did last night mean nothing to you?"

_What did it mean to you!_ he wanted to scream, but his vision was fixed on Sirius's ring.

"Mum said you were gone all last night," James nearly whispered, keeping his gaze fixed on the Black family crest.

Sirius's grin faded and was replaced by shame and desperation."I had to do it," he said pitifully.

James laughed, and pushed Hermione's hands away as if they burned him, because he really couldn't stand it anymore. "Of course you did! You always have to do something reckless, without thinking! Without telling anyone and then leaving us to pick up the bloody pieces! Well guess what? This time when the Dragon gets pissed at you and kicks you out of your filthy Dark Wizard home, don't bother to come back here!"

"Prongs, you don't understand! Reggie was going to..."

"I don't fucking care what that slimy git does! I don't like the way he's been looking at _her_ and don't think I haven't heard the rumors!"

"What rumors?" Hermione cried, sounding just as afraid and frustrated as Sirius. "James, stop shouting and look at me!"

James laughed again and stumbled back as he finally looked at her. He wanted to pull her curls until it burned her scalp and his lips bruised hers. He could still see the bites and love marks he had left on her. He fought the urge to race the ones she had given him. He could still _taste _her for Godric's sake!

"I should have known you'd try and take the blame for what happened in Hogsmeade on yourself!" he said, shaking his head. "That's what you always do, no matter how many times I try to get you to open up to me! I had a few Snakes tell me Reggie Black was planning on proposing to you. I couldn't believe you'd plan something like that without telling me...But if_ this_ means what I think it means," he said gesturing between she and Sirius, "don't bother trying to save me! Because-" he froze and gritted his teeth, vainly fighting to quench his fury of emotions. The firelight flickered and lamps about the room began to wink in and out as he felt his control waver and his magic expand.

Hermione pressed a hand to his cheek and he felt a surge of calm. Tears were in her eyes, falling down her face in streaks.

Sirius started to speak, "Prongs, let me explain..."

"Not now, Padfoot." Hermione's tone was biting, but it was only pity and love she offered James through her golden orbs. "James, look at me. It's okay, really. Just let us explain. You're right, I was trying to protect you. But haven't you been protecting me all this time as well? Fighting Slytherins in the corridors wasn't exactly subtle, even if they attacked you first. I know you did it because of me. And I've heard you're bribing younger students to keep an eye on me."

He shook his head. She didn't understand.

_She'll never fucking understand..._

"I did it for _you_, Hermione. It's always been _you_. But if you do this we can't be together and I _have _to...I-I _need _you." He grabbed her by her upper arms and pressed his forehead against hers. He didn't hear her strangled sob even as he continued. "Don't try to save me, because if I don't have you then I'm dead already!"

Hermione blinked and more tears fell from his eyes. "I should have told you our plan. It was to keep _him _off our scent, James. It was to keep you safe, af-after everything y-you've done for me. I'd do anything, even if it means losing you."

"So you're engaged to Black now, then?" he asked, his voice little more than a croak and a whisper. He was hoping she was about to prove him right, hoping that the alternative wasn't true, couldn't ever be. He hated his weakness and his anger was building up just beneath the surface, just thinking of all the moments he had wanted to bash Reggie Black's face in the Muggle way. He wanted to hex his balls off from the first moment he'd seen them meet in Diagon Alley and recognized the calculating look in his eyes, even from that distance. Now he could barely stand it.

"No," she said and for a glimpse, gave him the world, only to snatch it right back, "I'm engaged to Sirius."

James froze and lifted his head before he shoved her away from him. Nearby glass balls on the Christmas tree cracked and shattered onto the floor as he back away and turned stiffly to his _best mate_. "Padfoot..." he said in a low, quiet voice.

Sirius looked miserable as he damn well should, James thought. He tried to rush forward, mumbling the whole way. "Reggie is in too deep with the other side, now. He couldn't protect her anymore. I knew if I did then we could all stay together and we could work meantime to find a way out of this mess, a way to-"

**_SMACK_**

Sirius was knocked off his feet by James's fist. Hermione was screaming behind him, "James, no! Don't hurt him!" But this only inscenced him further. He lifted Sirius up by the scruff of his neck and roared into his face. "You stupid, bloody wanker! You can't _undo _this kind of a proposal! If you sign that, she's yours until death! I thought you had run back to the Dragon's skirts because you wanted to keep an eye on them, like a sodding idiot, but this really tops it off! You couldn't stand to see her with him, yeah? Is that it? And I ASKED YOU! I fucking ASKED if you fancied her, remember?!"

With a desperate, quiet tone, Sirius replied, "Prongs, just calm down mate and listen!"

"James!" Hermione pleaded but she picked the wrong moment to touch him. He flung his arm back, shoving her several steps. She gasped as she stepped on some of the broken glass, her face growing pale as blood started to pool under her slippered feet.

_Fucking hell!_

"Shit!" James shoved Sirius into the hard marble floor and fought the need to scoop her up and rescue her. He was done rescuing her. He was done with all of them. He stalked off and that was when he looked past the tree to find an open mouthed Wormtail and a disapproving Mooney watching them.

_Tripple shit!_ he cursed in his mind. He was shaking and dug his fingers into his hair to try and breathe, to calm himself down. But when he closed his eyes, all he could feel were her emotions and her pain and heartache. He knew she hadn't done this to hurt him. But well, hell, it did!

_What else could she possibly expect from me!_

He needed her out, he needed some distance before things got any worse. "Get out," he said in a flat tone.

Sirius had set Hermione onto the couch and had used his wand to vanish the glass. Remus was currently mumbling a healing spell. And Wormtail was watching James with a mixture of fear and fury on his innocent face. It made James hurt inside to see his best mates looking at him like that. But they didn't know yet. They would soon enough.

Sirius jumped to his feet, anger at last replacing his surmounting guilt. "Are you bloody serious? Where is she supposed to go, Prongs?"

"I wasn't just talking about _her!_" James shouted. "I want you both out of my house and off grounds! I don't care where you go, don't care what you do. Just get the hell out of my life!"

Sirius punched him in the jaw, matching his earlier swing, but lacking half the conviction. It was just enough to send James's glasses askew and renew his former anger. But there was just enough shock in him to listen to Sirius.

"FINE! But only until you've calmed the fuck down, mate! And you wonder why she was afraid to say anything to you before? I may be reckless, but you're completely mad and now she knows it! You fly off the handle at everything that doesn't go your way, just like Evans is always telling you. Maybe there's a reason Hermione fell for you, yeah? Maybe if she'd known you like the rest of us, she'd have thought twice!"

James watched numbly as Sirius lifted Hermione from the couch and into his arms, before Remus could finish his spell.

"Hope you have better luck talking sense in him than us, Mooney. Wormy, see ya later, mate. Hermione, let's go." Hermione didn't say anything as she let herself be led away by Sirius. She let her curls hang into her face to mask the tears but James still could feel her. Sirius grabbed a handful of floo powder and entered the fireplace then, shouting, "Bleakhouse Manor!" They melded with the flames but not before Hermione glanced up one last time to meet his eyes. A part of him broke when she disappeared.

"Jamie?" James whipped around and saw a sight even worse than the one that had just left him. Dorea Potter stood with a wide eyed Charlus at her side. Her sapphire eyes were wide and disappointed and he saw the exhaustion on her face, in the pinched lines and the sorrow practically leaking off of her.

"Mummy, I'm sorry," he started hoarsely, then shouted when her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she fell to the ground.

* * *

Hermione was numb as they entered the regal and masculine accented home of Alphard Black. She was very glad Sirius had chosen to bring them here instead of Grimmauld Place. They were in no state to present her to the rest of his dark family, and she had no inkling to see Regulus right now. A part of her felt broken in an irreplaceable way. She knew she had wounded James, betrayed him more deeply than anything else she could have possibly done. All those months of careful planning and ideas, trying to find ways to keep Voldemort from getting to them, it meant nothing now.

She could barely feel him, but pushed the feeling away strongly, vainly. To feel it now only accentuated her own agony. The room was darkly furnished, and accented by shades of emerald instead of gold. But it was still comforting in a slightly aloof way. Sirius didn't hesitate to carry her to a nearby sofa and set her down. He made himself busy by checking over her person first and then, ever so gently, lifting her foot for better inspection.

His silvery eyes darkened to a stormy gray as he hissed and pulled out his wand. She smiled faintly as he muttered a different spell, one she didn't actually recognize. But Sirius Black had been raised to be a Dark Wizard, and moments like this one, as she felt a glaze of unfamiliar magic wrap around her foot like cool ice, with his features heightened by the fire and the Slytherin styled home around them, she caught a glimpse of who he could have been.

_Or could still be_, she reminded herself.

"Th-thank you...for bringing me here," she said with a shiver. Sirius eyed her fiercely a moment, then his expression softened and his lips slipped into their more familiar smirk.

"Well I wasn't about to drop in on my parents until we've come up with a more realistic story. You know, since you were supposedly almost promised to Reggie and now me," he said with a dark laugh. he shook his head so his dark curly hair fell out of his gaze and concentrated.

Hermione gulped and looked around the room once more, listened to the clock chime nearby. "Is Alphard home, do you think?"

Sirius shrugged and scowled, "Probably busy at the Ministry...or another conference with the family, knowing _my _father." He was silent for along moment.

That's when she found the courage to ask the questions he hadn't been ready for the night before. It was best they talk of other things now, of _anything_, really. "Padfoot..." Sirius winced at the name and she quickly amended "Sirius, how did you get your family to accept you again?"

He shrugged and though her foot was healed now, he kept it on his knee and his free hand on her ankle. "Turns out they were more willing to have me back than they wanted to admit, even my mother. But I think a large part of it has to do with _you_." He glanced up at her and winked.

Hermione blushed, in spite of herself and took her foot out of his lap. She rubbed it absently with her hand and frowned. "Me?"

"Yeah," he replied with a nod. "You might have changed her perspective on a couple of things, according to Reggie. They didn't really ask a lot from me, just yet. I have to be more careful in the grand master prank, and take on more responsibility with the family. Grandfather will be watching me like a hawk. And as you know, we'll have plenty of spies watching us. So I'll have to work more on being the neutral Pureblood, like you." He smiled and stood to his feet. He paced a moment to the fire and then back to sit by her side. She heard his uncertainty in his next words. "Prongs will come round. He always does. Don't think this isn't our first big row...But, I need to know where your heart is in this, Hermione. It's never too late to back down, you know. I wouldn't be the first jilted Wizard. And we're young. We can prolong the engagement, whatever you need."

She nodded and gasped, surprised to find fresh tears in her eyes. But when she looked up at him she smiled. "You've done so much, and I truly hope you're right about James. I feel a lot better about you than Regulus. But I know he's been working with some of the other Slytherins in this. We won't be fighting alone. I just feel so terrible for coming between you and James..."

Sirius said nothing a long moment, and then abruptly stood and held out his hand. His knuckles were swollen and looked fairly raw, from punching James, she realized. "Come on, love. We need to clear the air a bit, I think, both of us. I left my bike over here before Apparating to the Potters last night. Told Uncle we might be coming by here."

"You knew he'd react like this, didn't you?" she asked curiously.

He shrugged and turned to look at her over his shoulder. "Hoped for better, but wasn't expecting anything worse. His magic's grown..." he grumbled.

Hermione was too weary to protest when he paused by the entrance to transfigure some fabric into tough boots. She watched him curiously as he tugged his keys from his jeans pocket and twirled them around with a flourish and a wink. He kept her hand in his as they walked down the steps and he took off the charm concealing his motorbike.

It was large and sleek and beautiful as she remembered it. The thought of flying usually terrified her, but she found herself craving the thrill and the rush just then. Sirius sat on the bike first and she tentatively lifted her leg to sit behind him. "Good," he said, "Now put your feet on those bars right there and grab hold of my waist. Hang on for your life, Witch," he teased over his shoulder.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Not too fast, now, Sirius." But she shrieked when the bike roared to life and he kicked it in gear. They sped down the long drive leading toward the country road and then lifted suddenly to speed along in the air. She screamed and he laughed and somewhere between the clouds she found her own laughter bubbling from her chest. Rather than shed tears, she clung to the hope that he was right, and that things would sort out soon enough.

But no matter she couldn't shake the conviction that things were going to be different after this.

* * *

An owl arrived some time after they left, and his mother was put back to bed. James still felt guilty for his part in her collapse, and his father had spoken extensively with him on the subject until everything came to light. To James's shock and anger, Charlus was more sympathetic than surprised.

_"Can you truly blame them for trying to protect you, son?"_

His mum's words were harder to hear.

_"You mustn't be so selfish, Jamie. I truly am disappointed. I thought I had raised my son to handle such situations with more dignity. You're a Gryffindor, but you're also **my **son. That means part of you is a Black. And we always protect our own. You must forgive their secrecy and see it for what it is, or you will regret it dearly."_

Remus and Pete had followed him around cautiously after as they rummaged through the pile of fireworks. He had needed to take his mind off things. But this didn't help him much once Wormtail opened the can of worms, figuratively and started badgering him about..._her_. Mooney tried to interrupt, but it was too late. He stormed off until he found himself in the place where his favorite House Elf, Blighty had given him biscuits and milk.

And there he sat, his milk replaced by a stolen bottle of his father's firewhisky and a scowl ready for the bird flying his direction. The creature was regal and massive, its feathers colored black. He watched it fly to him from the door leading from the kitchens and to the back lawn gardens. James tore the envelope from its beak and tore it open without bothering to feed the blasted creature. Though it pecked him he turned his wand to it threateningly, daring it to carry the message he wanted to convey.

"You can tell _them _to piss off, bird."

His eyes fell to the parchment as the bird squawked and flew angrily off.

It was an official announcement, an engagement proposal between one Sirius Orion Black and Hermione Ariana Dumbledore... James sobbed once and fought to keep it in. He crumbled the letter into a wad and stood. He ran to his room and grabbed his broom in one hand, ignoring Mooney and Wormtail's calls behind him as he shoved open his window and jumped off the balcony and onto the familiar wooden stick. Snow and ice stung his skin as he flew up, until he was among the clouds and fighting hard for his next breath. There, on top of the world he allowed his fury to pour from his lungs and the tears be whipped aside by the furious wind. He hovered, legs tucked against his broom and arms flung wide as he threw his head back and stared at the swirling mass of gray and stars peeking beyond it.

He wanted to fly through those clouds, higher than any other Wizard had dared to before, like he often did in his dreams. He wanted to die. He let his control over the broom fade then, just enough to feel the sudden plummet of his innards and the pull of gravity. He closed his eyes and felt his cloak cluttering around him.

Deep inside of his chest, so small he could barely detect it, he felt a sudden surge of fear and overwhelming love that didn't belong to him. It was _her_. He gasped and opened his eyes to see himself tumbling and heading toward the increasingly growing manor.

She was still a part of him.

His strong hands grasped hold of the broom handle, and he allowed his magic to flare back to life. The broom arced and carried his body up again with it just before he impacted with the hard stone. His despair was replaced by determination as he continued to turn circles and dare dangerous pitfalls. She might belong to Black in law and on paper soon, but her blood sang in his veins, and his magic was melded to hers. No matter where she went or who they became, they belonged to each other. And he would do his damnedest to remind her of that.

* * *

**Review: **_What's James going to do? Is it already too late for him to win her back, do you think? Predictions for the upcoming Part 3 are not only welcome but encouraged. ;)_


	35. SEQUEL

_**RECAP & PREVIEW**_

* * *

James Potter only wanted what any decent Wizard could hope for, a bloody gorgeous wife, three brats and his three best mates close by. He didn't expect to catch a Witch from the skies or to fall in love with her haunted honey eyes.

Hermione woke up broken and alone in front of Potter Manor, with no memory of her past life, but an infinite well of knowledge at her disposal. Her one solace quickly became not only her love for the determined and free spirited James Potter, but all of the Marauders.

She has been given a new name and the family she senses she has always craved, but fears digging too deeply into her past. Little does she realize that the scars on her hand are the mark of her time turner, or that she comes from more than twenty years in the future. Nor does she realize the impact her presence has already had on those around her, how she's helped forge and break relationships. Or how prophecy and history is now being rewritten.

The Dark Lord is on the rise, and Hermione is determined to do whatever it takes to save the ones she loves. James will stop at nothing to keep her or to remind her that true love is worth fighting for at all costs.

Sides will be chosen and friendships divided in the sequel and conclusion to "A Darkly Slanted Mirror."

**A THINLY DRAWN VEIL**

* * *

**A/N: **_Originally I wanted to make this one very long epic journey. But then I realized that A Darkly Slanted Mirror has already become just that. I had toyed with the idea of splitting Parts 1&2 from Parts 3&4 and after recently struggling through a seventy-chapter fic, decided to go ahead and take the plunge, so to speak. :)_

_Thanks so much to everyone who has written reviews and shared support by favoriting this story! Both when I originally posted it and today. I couldn't have written it without you. :)_

**You can look for the first chapter of A Thinly Drawn Veil HERE:**

_**RECAP & PREVIEW**_

* * *

James Potter only wanted what any decent Wizard could hope for, a bloody gorgeous wife, three brats and his three best mates close by. He didn't expect to catch a Witch from the skies or to fall in love with her haunted honey eyes.

Hermione woke up broken and alone in front of Potter Manor, with no memory of her past life, but an infinite well of knowledge at her disposal. Her one solace quickly became not only her love for the determined and free spirited James Potter, but all of the Marauders.

She has been given a new name and the family she senses she has always craved, but fears digging too deeply into her past. Little does she realize that the scars on her hand are the mark of her time turner, or that she comes from more than twenty years in the future. Nor does she realize the impact her presence has already had on those around her, how she's helped forge and break relationships. Or how prophecy and history is now being rewritten.

The Dark Lord is on the rise, and Hermione is determined to do whatever it takes to save the ones she loves. James will stop at nothing to keep her or to remind her that true love is worth fighting for at all costs.

Sides will be chosen and friendships divided in the sequel and conclusion to "A Darkly Slanted Mirror."

**A THINLY DRAWN VEIL**

** s/9267597/1/A-Thinly-Drawn-Veil**

* * *

**A/N: **_Originally I wanted to make this one very long epic journey. But then I realized that A Darkly Slanted Mirror has already become just that. I had toyed with the idea of splitting Parts 1&2 from Parts 3&4 and after recently struggling through a seventy-chapter fic, decided to go ahead and take the plunge, so to speak. :)_

_Thanks so much to everyone who has written reviews and shared support by favoriting this story! Both when I originally posted it and today. I couldn't have written it without you. :)_

**You can look for the first chapter of A Thinly Drawn Veil sometime this weekend.**

**Soon we'll learn the answers behind the questions. Will Sirius and Hermione tie the knot to save James and his family? Will Voldemort leave them alone for good, or will this only allow him easier access to the mysterious Witch with powers to match his? Lily and Snape and Regulus will learn of the Dark Lord's secret plans. Remus and Peter will have more of a voice and a part. And last but not least, will Hermione choose to look past the veil and remember?**

**.**

**Soon we'll learn the answers behind the questions. Will Sirius and Hermione tie the knot to save James and his family? Will Voldemort leave them alone for good, or will this only allow him easier access to the mysterious Witch with powers to match his? Lily and Snape and Regulus will learn of the Dark Lord's secret plans. Remus and Peter will have more of a voice and a part. And last but not least, will Hermione choose to look past the veil and remember?**


End file.
